Lumiere
by PoppieJoy
Summary: when suddenly nothing else matters but the smell of coffee, the taste of watermelon and the way she swallows your tongue in this coconut light, broken and broken and then broken again.
1. The Start?

**So originally, this was meant to be a light one-shot whilst I researched for a one-shot I've been asked to write about a 'walk through a museum with brittana'. But, alas, it had turned into something like 50,000 words (god knows how) so it's probably a little big for a one shot, which is a sort of shame because I think the first couple of chapters aren't going to be interesting for you guys but they're really needed so I can establish Brittany for you. It was sparked partly from a diary I'd kept when I went to St Lucia that I recently found and Ed Sheeran's song Tenerife Sea, (please, please listen to it.) But the first few chapters are actually snatched from a novel I'm writing in real life so I'm really hoping you guys give this a chance. I've written the whole thing so updates will be frequent and I'm sure it will only be about seventeen chapters at most (when I say chapters, though, it's based on days so some are much longer than others.) But I've totally written a scene in this that made even my heart fly and so you should probably read this just for that. (Chapter 7 that will be.) So enjoy! And please give this a chance. Give the way it's written and how I've perceived Brittany a chance - I swear you'll like this, just hold out for Santana. She's on her way :)**

**disclaimer: I OWN NO ONE. Any mistakes are mine and I apologize. I don't have a beta.**

**The Start?**

there's a strange sort of sensation when you're swimming underwater. it's almost like you've gone completely deaf, yet you can hear absolutely every tiny thing. like you're senses have gone into overdrive and everything's too loud and everything's too quiet all at the same time. it's peaceful, yet eerie. it's relieving, yet severely intense. it's safe, yet more dangerous than anything you've ever done before. it can almost be maddening if you let yourself feel the terror. but really, it's actually beautiful. so beautiful. being underwater instantly makes you forget everything that haunts you above it. it's like a protective barrier you can't seem to find in real life. and there's the thing that fascinates me the most - how being underwater can make you feel like you're in another world. how you feel almost dead yet so incredibly alive and how it might just possibly be better than living on the other side.

as a kid, i used to love placing my face halfway in the water and halfway out so i could see half underwater and half above. my eyes would sting and the water would always shoot up my nose but i was so determined to see both worlds at the same time that i would spend hours trying. i even saved up my money (rather than habitually buying the latest addition of _animal action_ every week) for a pair of high end goggles but i then found it difficult to focus on what was happening above the water at the same time as what was happening underwater, so i threw those goggles across my granny's pool like they were plagued with a deadly disease. nothing ever seemed to work so when my mother would frustratingly call me out the water, i'd feel so upset that i hadn't succeeded, i'd spend the rest of the day picking the fraying cotton balls off my t-shirt in a stagnating state of angry disappointment.

it wasn't until i was about twelve that i realised trying to see both above water and under water at the same time was really quite impossible.

after all my effort, it was only underwater that i really wanted to see. even though in my granny's pool, underwater was never as cool as being under the sea or the lake in my garden. it wasn't even as cool as the pond round the back of the lavender. it was just nice because it was, well, underwater. and i adored that muffled silence like a drug addict with a ketamine craving. i was untouchable under that surface; when i could look up and see the floating ripples of a shaky sky, not even the rain could get me, and that made me happier than anything else in my childhood world of oversized dolls houses and too expensive hand-me-downs.

talking of my childhood, the whole however many years of it felt like one long search to me. it was an endurance test - a journey of many overgrown pathways and wrong turnings. i just wanted to know what being alive felt like because i never felt like i really was. and it wasn't because i was unhappy or ill or deprived. it was simply because i probably had one of the world's biggest imaginations and because of that, nothing was ever good enough. i was always convinced there was something bigger out there. i felt like a princess living in this beautiful castle who didn't want to wait for her prince. i didn't care about princes and true love and life-saving kisses. a kiss wasn't going to bring me back to life because nothing had killed me yet. i just didn't have the time; i wanted to be out there, swinging on the ropes i'd tied in all the trees in our garden. i wanted to be fighting off all the bad guys with my own sword. i wanted to be swimming in the water so i could see what was beneath it and feel alive for a second. i wanted to make my own adventure with just myself for company. because i was more than enough. and i didn't want to wait. people are always waiting these days.

i wasn't going to wait.

my sister, on the other hand, was a great waiter. she would wait all of her life if it meant at the end of it she'd have a bank full of bentley's and penthouse city apartments. i'd watch her, as a kid, paint her nails by the side of the pool with a pale polish she couldn't afford, fascinated by the way they'd never look any different afterwards. and even when i'd accidentally splash her and she'd have to start "_all. over. again_", with her teeth gritted, it always seemed far too much effort to waste.

and like my sister, my brother could always wait too. sometimes for hours. he'd spend about four hours waiting for my father to finally surrender on a chess match every thursday evening just so he could hear my father say, "son, you're unbeatable." he waited for days upon days at the front door for a letter from the city informing him of his acceptance into law school. he once even wasted four months for a girl, who was probably a little like me, whilst she went off traveling the world with her best friend and never came home. you know, he's probably still waiting for her now, sat in his graveyard five bedroom house on the outskirts of the city, wife away with her girlfriends, children asleep in their handmade wooden beds, cat curled up on his waiting lap, and a stack of archived cases he's been putting off sorting for much too long. waiting. always, always waiting.

he will never stop. and neither will my sister.

when they both come home for christmas, my brother with his family, my sister with her boyfriend of the month, it just makes it ten times more obvious that my whole family waits. our house waits. our whole existence as the "prestigious pierce's" sits waiting. (if my family are the valuable, valiant knights of the village then i am the venturesome, vibrant vagabond the village "doesn't need to know about." apparently.)

my mother, she waits for my father. and my father - well, he waits for six o'clock when he can have his scotch. and that's about as exciting as our family gets. and during my parent's annual family vacation, my family will be no different.

my sister will get me some god awful perfume that she found in some god awful counter in the city as a desperate attempt to make me smell girly on the beach. (i don't see the point when I'll be in about out of the sea all day.) my brother will kiss me on the cheek at the airport and leave a stubble rash where his protection is supposed to be. his wife will air kiss me on both cheeks, acting far too over-pleased to see me and their twin daughters will look up at me with expectant faces, holding their hands out for a present they know i haven't got them.

(spoiled brats.)

and my sister's boyfriend? well, he will look at me with some sort of respected disgust, grimace like he's just smelled cat shit and probably proceed to pat me on the head like i'm eight years old again. they all do it. it must be some city boy odd shit.

my granny will come too and she'll take a look at all three of us and stand us in row before we head down for dinner each night, telling us all exactly what she thinks of our outfit choice, our hair style and our make up. possibly our attitude as well. they'll be the usual "wonderful" for my sister, "like a king" for my brother and well, for me? my granny will tut and mutter in disapproval at the many rings adorning my fingers and she'll say something along the lines of, "where did this family get you from?" but i shake it off.

(or at least i try to.)

but this year i'll probably hurry and escape to my room where i will pull out my journal from the bottom of my suitcase and write about everything i dislike about my family and everything i love about the idea of one.

because after all that's happened. after everything i have done and after all the things i haven't been able to say, i really need to figure out how i can adore such a beautiful and magical vacation with my absolute whole, whole heart, when the people who surround it all can't even bare to look me in the eye.

yeah. this vacation is probably going to be a little different.


	2. No, Britt, This Is The Start

**No, Britt This Is The Start**

You'd always known you loved writing. You used to write about the way your mother would scowl at your crooked hat every September you went back to boarding school. You used to write about the way your father spoke in Latin when he addressed you in the mornings. You used to write about the way in family photos, your brother and sister would be sat neatly together on a bench or something, smiling so perfectly you'd think they were being paid in chocolate and you'd always be looking away or bitting your lip or crying.

It was the same at boarding school. You didn't really like serious photos. But when it came to taking photos with your friends in the boarding house, you loved it. You'd stick your tongue out, pout, go cross-eyed and on the rare occasion, actually be looking towards the lens.

Your drama teacher used to tell you it was such a shame you were no good in pictures because you actually had a great smile. You didn't mind her telling you that though, since she was your favourite teacher and performance was your favourite lesson. For a while, you got to be someone else and that person could smile all they wanted. And as big and bright as they wanted too.

When you eventually finished school, aged eighteen, you didn't want to go to college because you wanted to spend a year working out what it was you wanted to do. Your parents hadn't taken too kindly to this but after you got a job, they sort of backed off. They still reminded you every dinner time that if you want to get anywhere in life you have to go to university but like with everything, you just tried to shake it off.

You'd got your job sort of accidentally. You'd been walking through the summer meadows around the back of your house, lazily sipping a banana milkshake through a strawberry lace, (you'd had a whole packet in your pocket), when you'd noticed a small cardboard box under the twirling roots of an oak tree. Thinking back to it now, it all sounds so picturesque and lovely but in reality it had started to pour with rain and you really hated thunder and lightening.

But this box had seemed so out of place dumped in the middle of this beautiful green meadow - like placing an inner city block of flats in the middle of Ohio's most prized village. So you'd gone over to remove it, since it was littering your meadow, and soon you'd realised, like the Snow White that you were, that it contained four tiny gold and white puppies barely a day old. Your first thought had been that they were abandoned there by an owner who didn't want them but then you'd wondered maybe if they'd been stolen or misplaced. You never found out and you probably never will but you picked that box up like it contained the crown jewels and you carried it so carefully back through the village. It had totally been an accident that you'd bumped into Meredith Smith on your way through as she had just been picking up her lunch from the grocery store. Looking back, it was quite a miracle really that you'd seen her because had you taken those puppies back home, god knows what would have happened to them since your parents would have done nothing but scoff at them and tell you to drown them in the lake. But Mrs Smith had gasped just the same way you had and had hurried you into her small and very ancient book shop on the other side of town.

You'd been soaking from trying to keep the puppies dry and when you'd entered her shop, she'd taken you straight to the fire round the back, removed your coat, handed you an old dry and fraying wooly jumper and placed the puppies one by one into a bed of old scarves and blankets in front of the fire. You had no idea what had happened to their mother but judging from the way the puppies' golden coats had been tainted with white, like strokes of the prettiest paint, you were pretty sure they hadn't been the pedigrees this area of the state was well known for breeding.

Mrs Smith and you had spent hours trying to get them warm. She hadn't bothered to phone the vet. It had been a Sunday and from the way she had them wrapped in a cocoon and rubbed their backs rather roughly, you'd felt a bit like maybe she'd done this before. It was about seven in the evening when you finally got them stirring. You had heated them some out-of-date milk formula Mrs Smith so conveniently had still stored in her cupboards from her daughter's pregnancy, in her cottage next door, and since neither of you had any idea whether they could drink it or not, you risked it since they were on death's door anyway. And since that moment, you don't think you have ever felt so significant in all your life.

Mrs Smith kept those puppies in the back room of her cottage book shop for the following weeks after that. Soon, you'd got them opening their eyes and running around playing tag with each other and eventually, you noticed how they all had different personalities. There had been the lightest puppy, Muppet, nicknamed after the way she constantly bashed into everything. Little Judy had been named after tipping over Mrs Smith's punch at her annual summer party and Todd had just been a really odd dog, always sitting in the middle of the room and staring for ages into space. He was a dreamer much like you and Mrs Smith, always making you laugh.

And then there had been Peter. Peter had been your favourite. Peter had liked to pretend he could fly. And because of that, you'd instantly singled him out. He was a fox red colour and he had this gorgeous white blaze going from his left ear all the way down his chest. He was the best. And even after Muppet had been taken home by Mrs Smith's daughter and Judy had gone to live at the local Irish pub and Todd had ended up curled in the armchair of an old man in town, Peter remained right by that fire and he hadn't left since.

You'd spent every waking moment you had with that dog as he grew up, teaching him all the tricks you could think of and walking him through the meadow. It hadn't taken Mrs Smith long before she'd offered you a job. She had used the excuse, "my knees aren't what they used to be", and thrown you right behind that cashier without even so much as a "you're hired."

So as far as a job went, you'd felt like you had hit the jackpot. You spent all day reading books, pitching story-lines to possible buyers, listening to all of Mrs Smith's many tales and sitting next to Peter.

(Mrs Smith referred to him as your dog and you loved that more than anything.)

But after all the fun you had during the day, laughing along side Mrs Smith, Peter and the regular customers, you always come home to nothing. And not nothing as in, no house, no parents, no room, no space, no family etc. Nothing, as in every single evening you walked back into that house you were engulfed in an overwhelming stench of rotting, stale emptiness. No one in your house would ever ask how your day had been. No one would wait up for you, or have dinner cooked for you waiting on the side counter. No one. You learnt how to be independent from a very young age.

Yet you were certain that from an outsiders point of view, that house was nothing short of perfect.

As a teenager, coming home from boarding school wasn't always the same level of excitement as it was for your friends. You'd often be five minutes away from the house, the journey home with your mother deathly silent, and you'd have to remind yourself what everything looked like. You told yourself to open that front door like you were an outsider since that's exactly what you felt like. You said you'd breathe in that warm and homely scent of home cooked togetherness oozing straight from the family kitchen so deeply, your lungs would go numb from doubt and when you saw your father for the first time you would think of him as the strong and respected figure the rest of the world saw him as and you would smile at him like he controlled all the stars and the universe. Like he could do anything for you and make you feel a tiny bit like you were special. Because you were simply in his presence.

But it never worked.

You'd be back in your room and under your duvet before your father even recognised the Range Rover back on the driveway.

You would lie in your bed for days after you came home. And back then, it didn't seem so wrong and so... well, abnormal. It just seemed like you. Fitting, somehow. And you'd lie there spending hours and hours just thinking. You remember once reading a quote from Winona Ryder that she was the world's biggest procrastinator saying something along the lines of, "if it exists, I've fucking thought about it." And that was you, too. You would think about all the times you'd tried to ask for your sister's help with makeup and hair and how she'd always reply with, "isn't that what you learn at boarding school?" You'd think of how your brother once tried to teach you darts and he never bothered again since you were so much better at it than he was.

And you would think mostly about elephants. And how there was this girl at school who adored elephants but who looked so terrified all of the time you thought that maybe she was actually scared of them.

(That girl was just like you.)

You nicknamed that girl Nana since she was always a part of the novel, but could never go on the adventure.

Nana helped you forget how terrible things felt at home. Her presence was so loud yet she was always so quiet. She was fascinating, yet easily forgettable. Always moving, yet standing so still. Popular, yet totally friendless.

You never really talked to Nana. (You can't much remember her name.) But she was just like you. And you'd always find yourself thinking about her and her elephant slippers regardless of what you had been thinking about before.

You'd wonder if she went home to a house like yours or whether her house was much different.

You still wondered about Nana, even as you were reading stories to Peter by the fire. You still wondered about her when you walked home in the dark and you always wondered about her when you were pulling the knots out of your mangled shoulder length blonde hair in front of your mangled and stained mirror.

And you wondered about Nana because one hundred and fifty miles away, she was sat in a horribly dry hospital bed, with a drip line attached to her hand and a wire attached to her chest, being force fed through a tube because she couldn't bare to open her mouth for anything.

Again and again and again, Nana was just like you.

Just. Like. You.

And as you stared that into your mirror that lonely August night, all you could see in yourself was Nana's reflection.

Bones, blades, and blossoms and blossoms of bright black blood.


	3. Wait, This Is The Start, I'm Sure

Wait, This Is The Start. I'm Sure.

It would be an absolute joke to take a good look at this girl and think of her as a National Street Dance champion.

That girl isn't you.

(Isn't she?)

You'd won your first championship when you were nine. You'd been at boarding school for just a month when they'd taken your year to the local studio for a trip. You'd been so fascinated by it that you, your best friend, and a couple other girls went every week to the beginners lesson. You were quite lucky in that the classes had been offered as part of what your school called 'Enrichment' every Friday afternoon, so your parents knew fuck all about it. Had they known their daughter was break dancing rather than stock sharing (right?) or debating, they would have pulled you out that school and straight into another one. Just like that.

You used to count your stars for their ignorance. Now, you kind of can't find the point.

But eleven months after your first lesson and you were on fire. You won that championship three times in a row and when you were thirteen, you moved earlier than most into the intermediate lessons, dancing with your first troupe and by sixteen, you had won countless cups you'd had to leave at school over the holidays.

Your teacher always said you were on your way to being a world champion. You believed her up until the moment you tried to attend your home life as an outsider.

And then the fear landed like a bird of prey and even if you tried, you can't remember much else that happened.

You became so scared that the only time you'd leave your room was to go to work. And if it hadn't been for Peter, you probably would have been too scared to do even that. You couldn't even go downstairs to make a simple sandwich without being shot in the back by a bullet loaded with hostility.

It was easy to see how it all happened. And only finally realising that right now... right now when you're stuck in an institutionalized camp for starving death wishes just fills your heart with the loudest thunderstorm of guilt. Like a curtain call but without the play ending.

The doctors tell you it's a lack of serotonin in your brain. Apparently that's the reason why you're here. In this situation. In this hospital bed with the crispy, dry sheets. You don't understand though. You don't understand how you can even be that person who does what you've done to yourself when you've always believed yourself to be good. To be better than your family. Happier. Brighter. More free.

Except you're being released. Temporarily. To go on your family's annual vacation. And even though it stung when you saw your mother's eye roll when the doctor thought it would be a good idea for you to go and even though you felt even worse when your father paid for another seat on the plane, sighing on the phone to the airline, apologizing "profusely" for the "inconvenience my daughter has caused", you could not wait to get out of these dry sheets and into those familiar Caribbean ones.

And as you took your seat ten rows behind your family in coach whilst they flew first class, you wondered if that was a new sunrise you could see on the horizon, or just an old sunset that left nothing but a darkness in your heart you were trying to escape.

...

The thing about this place is that we always come back. My father hates going anywhere else because he's keen on familiarity and my mother adores it because she can leave us all for days and days for treatments at the spa. My brother will just go along with it and my sister will never complain about a free vacation to anywhere hot. We've never gone anywhere else and i'm sure we never will.

So St Lucia is my second home. Besides boarding school, this is the only other place that has made me feel okay. And I have no doubt it will again this time.

(Maybe.)

My mother heads straight to the spa when we first arrive in our villa. We have a time share at this resort and my parents chose a villa right at the top of the hill. So she calls a shuttle bus to come and fetch her and take her down to her 'welcome massage'. My father goes with her to spend an hour or two buying groceries from the resort's store, with my brother tagging along. His wife sends their daughter's to bed, even though it's the afternoon, so they can "catch up" on their jet lag whilst she bathes by our villa's infinity pool and my sister unpacks both her and her boyfriend's suitcases, whilst he just sits and watches.

I know that the doctors have told my parents at least one of them needs to be with me at all times but I also know that they will have forgotten about that. Or, rather, they will have chosen to ignore it. So I change into a bikini that no longer fits, slip on a baggy t-shirt and walk the mile down to the beach.

And that first step onto that white sand and that first kiss from the glowing sun onto my pale and frozen skin makes my heart beat with more purpose than it has done for months. I don't care that people stare through the gap in my legs and the bandages around my wrists. I'm free, I'm alone and I'm on my favourite beach.

And right now? That's really all that matters.

**The Second Day**

The Caribbean breathes easier than Ohio does. There's a certain way the palm trees inhale and exhale that makes you breathe better instantly. And it does so incredibly effortlessly because I wake up to Valerie, one of the long term members of staff I've known the whole twelve years we've been coming here, calling through the morning breeze, "Brittany! Miss Pierce, you 'ave been on na beach all night and your father is so very worried."

I know that she is only saying what she thinks I need to hear because I am almost certain that my father will have not noticed I haven't been back to the villa since I came down yesterday afternoon.

"Brittany!" She calls again, out of breath as she gets closer. "Oh, Brittany, you look like sticks!"

I murmur a reply, rub my eyes and stand up, stretching. I can feel Valerie's disapproval as it rakes across my whole body and it makes me totally aware of how cold I am.

"I call you a shuttle, Miss Pierce." She says, turning around and expecting me to follow her. She turns back once she realises that I'm not. "Fine, I get you towel."

I watch as she angrily trails off, her short stubby arms marching like a soldier next to her round body. I smile slightly because Valerie has always had a temper. I've known this ever since the day I fed her oatmeal she'd made specifically for me to this brown tabby kitten beneath the table. I named him Lord Tubbington and he's still here, somewhere. Fat and gross and adorable. My parents never came down for breakfast ever again; we always had it in the villa from that day on.

Valerie returns with a towel and drapes it across my shoulders. I don't want to tell her that I'm actually freezing on my legs, so I clutch it to my shoulders, nod my thanks and walk towards the barrier of boulders that curl into the beach to keep a small and calm saltwater pool for the kids. I climb to the end and sit on one of the larger rocks, finally wrapping the towel around my legs. They instantly thank me.

I sit there for hours and watch as the beach fills up. My parents have still not come and found me and I know they're not looking because Valerie has not come back out. So I stay where I am and occasionally close my eyes towards the sun. I get hotter, so I use the towel as a bed and lie on it but soon, the corners of the rock feel like nails and they dig right into my spine, so I'm sitting back up again and think what the whole point was of lying down in the first place.

And this was when I saw her for the first time. Right in this moment as I complained to myself about the sharp pains in my back and the way the heat from the sun was burning through the rock and onto my skin. She was right there and wearing a neon green bikini and I thought she was probably the only girl who could pull off that colour - with her deep gold skin, the colour of brandy.

(and then I went and accidentally nicknamed her that, so when she sauntered through the shallow parts of the shore once again, all I could hear in my head was "Brandy, Brandy, Brandy" echoing in golden circles like a daytime eclipse.)

(I didn't realise she was just as mysterious as one too.)

The echoes in my head began transforming into melodies and scales and harmonies until a ripe and beaming song flew from my mind into the seams of my tattered heart and I never knew someone could be so poetic just watching someone else unscrew the lid off a freshly iced and dripping water bottle.

(She didn't sip it; she drew it in like she'd been yearning for it all her life and I liked that. I liked that because I was so thirsty and I wasn't sure what for.)

And then she smiled.

A little girl with long brown curls opened the palms of her hands and brought them to Brandy's face and when she saw what the girl had enclosed, her face may as well have just witnessed a miracle. She looked so proud and so in awe of her - like She couldn't quite believe she was real and breathing and standing in front of her with a miracle in her hands - that it was difficult to miss the adoring glances she gave her when the little girl breathed, "it's so cool!"

American.

(I wasn't sure which part. But it made me smile even more.)

But then _she_ spoke and she spoke just like my childhood nanny had - all T's and clean and with the faintest hint of a London twang, but then with a little sprinkle of Australia maybe as well, just like she'd spent nearly all her time traveling the world.

(Maybe she had.)

It had been laced with a gentle husk - a tone of coffee I'd not tasted before - that had so effortlessly seeped from her neon pink lips and I'd never experienced thirst like I had that second morning, desperately wondering the whole while what neon pink would be like if I planted my tongue on it.

(I had a friend who wore bright lipstick like that too, back at boarding school. She'd always sneak it in and wear it for all the socials we had with the boy's school over the road. I'd never wanted to taste it, though.)

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, watching this girl all the while. I think there were other young kids in the sea but I really wasn't focussing on them. I just wanted to watch this brown-skinned girl and the smaller one.

But then she took the young girl's hand, whilst she cupped her miracle in the other and the two of them together, made their way to Embers, which was the bar and grill they served lunch at.

(I desperately wanted to follow them.)

(I didn't.)


	4. Perhaps, Possibly, Accidentally

**Hey ya'll! Thank you so much if you have read this, that means a lot to me. But mainly thank you so much to the reviewers :) I didn't think I'd get many at all for this because I am totally aware it's slow at starting and that I'm not giving you your fluff and your angst straight away. But it will arrive - soon. But mostly, I'd really love to thank 'mrsleishahailey' because your reviews make my writing completely worthwhile - every single time. so thank you. **

**On a side note, I'm devastated glee is ending after S6. But please enjoy this. I know this one is short but I promise you, they get longer! The chapter I just wrote came to 10 pages. This was only meant to be a oneshot in the end because I don't trust my writing style doing lengthy things. Hence why this can be a little confusing. As we go along, though, this might get triggering I guess? Just as a warning.**

**Lastly, you will **_**adore **_**the next chapter.**

**(My tumblr is zerofourthreesix btw). **

**The Third Day**

My mother had shared a shuttle with me that morning, on her way to the spa. And it wasn't her that forced me into one - it was actually my brother.

"I really think Brittany should take the shuttle down with you, Mother."

"Oh quit your concern, Raymond." She'd spat, climbing into the passenger seat. "Brittany wants to be skinny, let her be skinny. She's never shown any interest in listening to us before so she won't now."

(I'd felt even more like I'd wanted to walk down than I had before.)

"Brittany, get in with Mother." My brother had ordered and because I'd been so surprised at his sudden authority, I had.

The rest of the journey had been silent.

I'd spent the morning sitting again on those boulders and in the afternoon, I'd gone swimming far out of the bay so no one would call the lifeguard in fear of me being beneath water for too long. And by god, it was beautiful when I got there. I saw yellow fish and green fish, dory's and nemo's and a thousand tiny fish that swam in such tiny shoals you'd think they were one.

I liked that.

(I'd only come back in because for the first time, I'd felt a little like maybe the water was collapsing on my lungs. But I told myself it was because I'd been stuck in a hospital bed and my fitness had decreased.)

Valerie had found me again and told me my brother had asked for me to be sent back to the villa. She kept her eye on me the whole time I stepped into the shuttle and continued to mumble something I couldn't decipher to the driver, her eyes not once wavering.

(I thought maybe at least someone was watching out for me. Whether I was thinking about Valerie or my brother, I don't know.)

My brother has ginger hair and I'm not entirely sure where it came from. My father is bald and my mother is blonde and my sister is also blonde. My family say that he's the anomaly but I'm starting to think that maybe it's me who's the anomaly instead.

He was waiting for me when I arrived back. His wife was in the shower and his daughter's were watching TV downstairs. My sister was putting her makeup on and her boyfriend was sat on the bed watching her. My father was shaving and my mother blowdrying her hair. My granny was sat waiting for everyone in the living room. But my brother was waiting for me and he told me I had only fifteen minutes before we all went down to dinner together and that he'd wait for me if I took longer.

He knew I wouldn't.

(I only needed to rinse my body in the shower and clean and change my bandages.)

We were sat down in the restaurant twenty minutes later. The staff had laid tables out on the beach decking since it was the manager's weekly cocktail party and for those of us who owned a time share, we were allowed to eat there and enjoy the free buffet. I watched as my mother and my sister drank the free champagne, my father engulfed his body weight in mahi-mahi and everyone else kind of sat looking incredibly bored. Except my granny. She looked like she was sucking lemons rather aggressively.

I was picking at the salad my brother had so precariously placed in front of me when Brandy caught my eye. Fleetingly. Like an actual catch - not just like I'd seen her again and followed her with my eyes to every place she stepped but like, properly. Like I caught her eyes and I think that maybe she caught mine back.

They were a deep, dark, burning brown. Like a fire in her eyes. And then there was that taste of coffee she'd had in her voice yesterday. It was everywhere. She was draped in it.

And I've never entirely felt any sort of cliche towards anyone before. But right in that moment she glanced (perhaps, possibly, accidentally) into my own eyes, there was definitely something. It wasn't exactly a 'when you know you know' moment - not like the book I was currently reading. No, it was a definite 'there's something about you.'

(and then I found myself giggling at 'theres something about Brandy' and I had no idea why. and my brother noticed and at first I thought he looked angry but then his eyes softened, almost to the colour of his hair, and he glanced back to whatever he and my father were talking about without another look. my giggles faded.)

I suppose lots of people every day get this 'something' feeling and with people who will never mean anything to them. It just kind of scared me that I felt it right now. With a girl. A girl I didn't know and had never met. It also scared me how drawn to this girl I was.

In fact it scared me a lot.

(It was just like the pull I'd had the first time I'd snapped my razor in half. Except it wasn't as urgent - a bit more like the pull I felt towards Nana. But then I didn't look at Nana and want to know what her lips tasted like. Or maybe I did? Or maybe I don't know.)

Brandy turned back to place a slice of watermelon on the little girl's plate and she didn't look again. I wanted to think I just missed her but I didn't catch her eye again for the rest of the night. She wasn't sat on the beach decking, so I knew her family didn't own a time share. But she sat on the sand with the little girl, their toes being rhythmically swallowed by the ocean's salty lips and it was all I could do not to walk over, place myself on the other side of the little girl and let my feet get swallowed too.

Perhaps my heart as well, probably at the same time.

I was thinking just how happy the two of them looked simply giggling at the gentle waves when one of my brother's daughters started screaming that she was cold so everybody left back to the villa. My brother tried to say that I hadn't finished my meal so we should wait but my mother merely scoffed and strutted off anyway.

"Come along, Raymond, the girl's want to go back!" My brother's wife scolded.

I watched as he followed her like a naughty puppy, his tail tucked in between his legs.

I didn't leave the restaurant until the sun began to rise again.


	5. Everything That Confused Me

**Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy x**

**The Fourth Day**

The doctors had given me a first aid kit with a ton of bandaging material in it before I left, with the instructions that my mother was to re-bandage my wrists every day. But since she hadn't even noticed I'd taken the first ones off anyway, I'd just done them myself. I kind of liked taking care of them. At least I knew how to keep them clean, even if I wasn't meant to go in the water.

I'd got fresh bandaging on when I decided to try paddle boarding for the first time. Vincent, the man who worked at water sports took one look at me and joked how I would probably fly off in the delicate summer breeze. I'd smiled thinly at him before finding a life jacket that fit me.

(I tried hard to ignore how all of them seemed to slip off my shoulders at the top.)

It wasn't difficult, though. The wind wasn't present and the water seemed to be at a standstill. It was actually kind of peaceful. The resort was a small way behind me, but far enough for me to breathe again. I could almost taste the salt from the sea and the coconut from the air.

And coffee?

She was kayaking when we met in the middle of the ocean. She had the little girl between her legs in front of her and she was patiently trying to teach her to paddle.

"But San, it's so heavy!" She huffed in her sweet, innocent American drawl, resting the paddle in front of her with a deep sigh.

And I watched as Brandy bent over her tiny frame, picked up the paddle and said so fucking warmly, "then paddle with me."

(It was only then that I realised I had stopped paddling and the board was drifting towards her at quite some speed, considering there was no wind.)

"Oh shit," were the first words I spoke to her.

She grinned.

The little girl stopped paddling suddenly and looked right up into my eyes. "Now you owe me a dollar!"

She grinned even further when I then replied, "Oh gosh, I am so sorry."

She looked like she was about to say something but before she could, we crashed and I went flying in.

Literally. Flying in.

(I've never seen someone so amused before.)

(It was the first time I hadn't wanted to stay underwater.)

I managed to clamber back onto my board, desperately trying hard to ignore the way my bones were bruising against my thrashing in the water and how they almost creaked when I flung my leg over the other side to straddle it. I didn't move the whole time the little girl explained to me how dangerous she thought paddle boards were. Brandy didn't move either. I'm not sure if she was even listening to her because our eyes never left each other's for a second.

(And maybe it was because she was trying not to look down at the rest of my body and maybe it was because she was looking away from the bandages that were fraying on my wrists but I liked that our eyes stayed put. I liked it a lot.)

We were drifting further away from the bay and by the time we'd actually heard the little girl telling us that we were drifting, we'd gone quite a way out. But Brandy had this sort of calming aura and not for one moment did I fear we'd have water sports coming to collect us.

We paddled in together, mostly in silence, but with the occasional smile on her behalf and the odd surprised giggle on mine. She had really defined arms and since she was helping me with my board, I could tell she was super strong.

(I just wanted to tell her that I was super confused and why was she looking at me like she'd discovered the world's hardest riddle and she couldn't figure it out?)

When we reached the shore, she stepped out her kayak and pulled the little girl up into her arms. I hopped off my board and she looked straight at me. I seemed to burn under her gaze.

I really couldn't help it.

"How about we come find you tonight for that dollar?" She husked, her voice as soft as stardust, the scent of coffee invading my senses.

(A breath didn't leave my body for quite some time after that.)

I tugged at the bandages around my wrist insecurely as I bit my lip and nodded. She turned to leave but she paused, turned back and smiled at me.

"I'm Santana, by the way."

I smiled.

"And don't forget me, I'm Ohana!" The little girl squealed.

I laughed and bit my lip again.

"I'm Brittany," I said, finding Santana's eyes again. "And sure, I'll bring a dollar."

(I'd never counted minutes before that afternoon.)

...

There's a kind of serenity sitting on a pier by yourself, listening to the hum of the resort behind you and having the waves lap at the wooden stilts beneath you. I didn't have to think about anything other than the way the wind tucked my hair behind my face and blew ribbons through the spaces in between it. It was calm, serene and lovely.

Directly above me, at the top of the hill, was my family's villa, standing proud like the people it should hold. But it felt heavy on my shoulders and however much I wanted to sit on the edge of it's infinity pool and watch the sunset, I felt safer beneath it, on wooden planks still warm from the afternoon sun.

I caught Orion's belt to the left of me and it made me wonder how Peter was doing.

_first star to the right and straight on 'till morning._

It made me also wonder how Nana was doing and how I wish I'd asked her more often, which in turn made me think of why I was so drawn to Nana and then why I was so drawn to Santana.

Thinking of Santana, I could almost swear the stars suddenly expanded and fell on my shoulders like the embers of a firework. I looked to my left one and then to my right and felt the weight of my family disappear for a moment. The tingles from the stars danced down my arms and straight into my palms, where I could feel the weight of four quarters encircled in my right hand.

(I'd had to buy several postcards I'd never send so I could get change for Ohana.)

"Ohana!" Her name suddenly rang out, making me jump. It wasn't a voice I recognised. "Ohana!"

"It doesn't matter, Rachel!" Came that familiar voice. Coffee floated in the air.

I turned to my right and saw Ohana running wildly towards me, Santana walking behind her and a girl I hadn't seen before standing with her hands on her hips at the side. Santana brushed her away and I watched as the other brunette raised her hands exasperatedly into the air and stormed off back towards the resort.

Meanwhile, Ohana was hurtling towards me and if I didn't stand up and catch her, she'd go flying into the sea like I had earlier today. So I stood and caught her just before she fell, ignoring the way my arms seemed to snap under such a small pressure.

Santana seemed to notice, however, and jogged the last few meters.

"Sorry," She gasped, taking Ohana's arms off my waist and pulling her off me.

"Ouch, San, that hurt." Ohana pouted, crossing her arms and turning to smile at me. "You look pretty, Brittany!"

I glanced quickly down at my white summer dress and long navy wooly cardigan which I'd literally just bung on before I left the villa. I'd only got one swipe of mascara on and my hair was only just dry. Everything just sort of seemed to hang.

"Ohana," Santana interrupted, placing her hand on the younger girl's head, "Say sorry for charging at Brittany, please."

The little girl looked sheepishly down and muttered, "Sorry, Brittany."

I awkwardly shook my head and bit my lip.

We were silent for a while before I suddenly remembered why we were here. "Oh," I exclaimed, louder than any other word I'd spoken before, "I have your dollar. Sorry it's in so many coins."

I handed her the money and she took it, looking at it like it was gold. She mumbled something about buying more fruit for her hermit crab before grinning so happily at me, I felt my knees crumble slightly. "Thank you!"

Once again, I awkwardly shook my head and smiled.

"Oh, Brittany, you know you really didn't actually have to do that, Ohana was just messing earlier, I mean she saw you just now and as you could see, we couldn't stop her." Santana breathed, placing her hands on her hips.

(_fuck, _they were nice hips.)

"It's okay," I said absentmindedly, my eyes wondering over her long leather pants and cropped black top. When I caught her eyes, she seemed to smirk. I blushed.

"How about you come join me and my friends on the beach?" Santana offered, biting her lip and for a split second, looking self-conscious. "Ohana will probably drag you whatever your answer."

I giggled, "Yes." I wanted to. I really did. More than anything. My god, I wanted to; it was almost cripplingly embarrassing how much I wanted to spend time with Santana and Ohana.

Santana giggled too and the smile she gave me made my heart melt. I don't think I've ever made someone smile like that before. Like you've just told someone with fertility problems that they're pregnant.

_beautiful._

As we walked, Ohana took my hand and I think it must have been the first time someone had held my hand since senior prom. I felt her eyes studying my bandages and when her fingers touched them, I must have flinched, for she looked up at me so apologetically and clasped my hand even tighter. And then as we neared where a group of people on the other side of the beach, under the large shack where they sold beer in the afternoons, Ohana turned to look up at me again and so innocently asked, it broke my already broken heart, "Why do you have these white things on your wrists?"

"Ohana!"

I've never heard another person so sharply snap another person's name before because it wasn't like when my mother gets mad at my father or when my granny snaps at me the moment I enter the same room as her. It was sudden and like it was choked within a desperate gasp and I couldn't help but feel my heart clench and squeeze when the little girl's name shot out of Santana's mouth.

Ohana looked genuinely like she didn't know what she'd said wrong.

I felt Santana stiffen beside me and all I wanted was to curl into her and tell her it didn't matter, I was used to it.

"Because," I answered Ohana, holding her hand tight, "I kind of thought they'd go with my outfit."

Ohana seemed to process this information and the two of us stopped because Santana had stopped just before the group of people. Through the darkness, I felt her worry.

"So you're not dying then?" Ohana questioned, chewing her free fingers.

I thought about this. No one had ever really said that - or looked like that's what they were thinking. Had they? I don't know. Maybe they had and I'd just never noticed. Or maybe I'd just chosen not to notice. I wasn't dying was I? I didn't want to die. I just liked the silence and being underwater and not wanting to be around my family. I just wanted to write and swim and read and dance. Did I want to dance? I used to want to dance. Now I'm not so sure. Now? Now I guess I kind of just want to escape from how I had wanted to escape before.

Did that mean I was dying? I wasn't so sure anymore.

"No," I looked at Ohana, "No, I don't think I'm dying."

"Ohana," Santana's voice spoke into the night air, "why don't you take your dollar and go show it to Rachel, or maybe Quinn if she's around. I'm sure Puck would like to see it too."

(She sounded desperate and it killed me in a way I didn't understand.)

The younger girl gave one last squeeze to my hand before whispering a quick "thank you" and scurrying off into the group of people.

There was a silence after she'd gone and I wanted so badly to let Santana know that it was okay - I liked silence and I was used to it.

"Sorry," She suddenly managed, looking down at her feet. "My little sister can be very inquisitive."

I smiled at Santana to let her know again that it was okay.

(I didn't tell her that my sister was completely the opposite.)

There was another silence and I could see the worry lines on Santana's face even out when the evening breeze blew across her face. Her cropped top blew upwards, revealing some well kept abs and it was all I could do not to lean forward and touch them. They were mesmerizing and incandescent and everything that confused me. She was looking like she'd barely made any effort and like she'd stepped out of bed looking flawless. Her eyelids narrowed into the wind and her big rounded lips, painted purple tonight, seemed to pout so naturally, like they were begging to be kissed. She had a mole on the top of her right shoulder, just off the side of her collarbone. I wondered what that tasted like too - probably coffee.

Everything was coffee.

She turned back to look at me and even when she asked me to walk with her to her friends, or when she sat and giggled with them about what had happened that day or when her dad brought over pizza for everyone to share, not once did she stop looking at me like the two of us knew something no one else did.

(and it scared me that I could see her looking at me like that for the rest of our lives.)


	6. Lets Make It A Date

**Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy x**

**The Fifth Day**

Santana hadn't left me last night until Valerie came to find me and say, once again, that my brother had called to send me back to the villa. She'd sat with me on the stacked sun beds until two am and Ohana had fallen asleep between us.

When I'd got back, my brother had left me a bottle of water and my fluoxetine by my bed side table that I should have been taking the whole time. He'd obviously read up on my doctors notes that I'd stuffed down the side of my suitcase. I'd taken them and in the morning, the villa was silent and a banana rested there instead.

I asked my stomach whether it was hungry. The grumble I received told me it was. I managed three small bites before I started to feel ill and threw the rest out the side of the villa, so the birds could peck at it. I took a deep breath, shoved my head under the cold tap and changed into my bikini and a baggy t-shirt.

No one was in and I had no idea when they'd return but from past experiences, if the whole family was out it was usually because the men had gone golfing and the girls had gone for a family spa day. So I dipped into the infinity pool and crept to the edge, looking out and pretending the Caribbean sea was my kingdom.

A jet ski glided across the surface around the corner of the resort's bay and pulled up outside water sports. If I listened closely, I could hear the crowds of people on the day time cruises as they swept past the bay and on towards the Pitons. There were kids jumping continuously on the inflatable trampoline and the familiar, beautiful sound of steel drums echoed up from Embers.

Lunch time.

I was about to slip quickly under the water when I heard the doorbell go.

"Santana?" I questioned, when I opened the door.

"Hey," She greeted delicately, smiling shyly like she couldn't quite believe she was there either. "I got your villa number from Valerie, I hope you don't mind."

You weren't sure if you were pleased or gutted your parents weren't here to witness this.

"No, that's okay." I told her, sucking my lips in. "Are you okay?"

She looked like she was fighting the urge to say something.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh," I muttered, standing back to let her in. "Yeah, sure, of course."

"You're all wet," She said, glancing at my dripping t-shirt.

"Oh gosh," I said, glancing down as well, "I've just been in my infinity pool."

"You have an infinity pool?" Santana asked, her eyes widening.

"Ha, yeah, sure." I said, letting her in.

She followed me out back to the pool and I told her she could get in with me if she wanted. She smirked at that comment and it made me blush and when she took off her shorts and t-shirt it made me blush even more.

Because now I was seeing her body closer than I had before.

I leant across the side like I had before, mostly to avoid staring at Santana but also because I didn't want her staring at me. She joined me and settled to my right leaning her arms on the side so our elbows touched.

"This is so cool," She breathed, smiling that smile again. "Are your parents not in?"

I squirmed.

"I was super prepared to meet them." She added.

I closed my eyes. It kind of scared me how confident Santana was. I'd only properly met her yesterday, yet here she was, in my infinity pool, expecting my parents to be super chilled and super nice and super concerned about having a daughter who starves herself.

"Oh, um, they've kind of gone out today I guess." I answered, still looking straight ahead. "How about you?"

I looked at her then and she smiled back at me like she'd known my answer all along and she'd expected this would be my first question.

"My dad's here," She whispered, leaning her head on her right arm. "He's currently playing with Ohana and her hermit crabs down on the beach. They're racing them."

"Oh," I nodded, smiling back at her because I couldn't help myself.

(_you're fucking beautiful, _was all I could hear in my head.)

"What about your mum?" I asked, all too aware how my t-shirt was starting to float in the pool.

Santana smiled again but this time, it was nostalgic and sad at the same time. "She's here," She said, pressing her palm to her heart.

_oh._

I really had to stop myself from leaning forward to kiss her then and I can't even understand why because I've never once had the urge to kiss anyone, let alone a girl.

"What happened?" I found myself asking, thinking how deep everything was considering she'd probably only come over for a drink.

"No, wait," I heard myself mumble before she could answer. My cheeks burnt bright red. "Sorry, you don't actually have to answer that, I was just, I don't even know, I-"

"She had breast cancer." Santana replied, squinting her eyes in the sun. She smiled at me like it was okay I'd asked. Her brown skin glistened under the rays and from the way she was resting, it looked like she was sparkling, like the vampires in Twilight. "She lost her battle four years ago when Ohana was only four."

"And how old were you?"

"Seventeen."

I bit my lip. "Wow."

"She's in a better place now, though." Santana said, almost like she was comforting me and not me comforting her. "That's why we're here."

I frowned at her. "Have you been here before?"

Santana shook her head. "But my dad is part of this charity group that raises money for the families left behind to take a vacation a year later to wherever and he kind of just decided to carry it on with a load of other people we'd met the first time."

I smiled. "Is that who the other kids were last night?"

"Yeah," Santana grinned affectionately. "Except some of them can be a pain in the ass. I mean, they can just be so serious, like, all of the time. I don't know, they're not silly enough."

She turned away as if she was cringing at what she was saying. But it kind of made me squirm inside at how cute she was. And I couldn't understand how I thought a girl near the same age as me was cute.

I also squirmed since she was chilling here with me and I was the most serious a person could get and at some point if she carried on wanting to hang out with me, she was going to see that.

(I wanted her to carry on hanging out with me.)

(So bad.)

"That's why I'm here with you," She continued, looking out to the horizon and closing her eyes into the sun. "You're refreshing and new and completely different. Like, some of the things you say and the way you're not worried about being by yourself, I don't know, I've not met anyone like you before."

I felt faint because how could she know all this when she didn't even know me?

"How come you know I'm always by myself?" I settled for instead.

She looked at me then like maybe I'd asked her to run away with me.

(Maybe I had.)

"Because," She answered, "I never see you down at the beach with anyone and if you are, you're not really that bothered about talking to them."

"Oh," I replied, giggling, "and I thought I was the only one who kept looking."

She smiled, again, like she'd been expecting me to say that. "No, I saw you were cute."

I turned away because the butterflies in my stomach suddenly became too much. I hid my blush with my hand to my cheek and leant on it, pulling my little finger into my mouth and jumping at how I seemed to crunch on bone.

(I wanted to say she was cute too but I didn't know how without saying it wrong and terrifying myself at the same time.)

"So my friends and I are going to the street party down in Castries tonight, did you wanna come?"

I felt my cheeks burn even harder and my heart rate pick up. Things like that gave me real bad anxiety but if my family weren't gonna be there I guess it wouldn't be too bad.

"Sure," I replied. I guess I really did miss dancing.

"But first," Santana said, moving away from the edge of the pool and walking towards the steps. "I wanna get some lunch."

She stepped out of the pool so elegantly and beautifully, I felt my stomach clench.

(Whether it was because of her or the mention of 'lunch', I wasn't sure.)

She turned around and held out her hand for me. "Come on," She said, helping me out the pool, both of us gasping at the contact. Her face was fairly close to mine now and she still had a grip on my hand. Her other hand came up to my left shoulder and she whispered right into my ear, "let's make it a date."

...

The car journey to the street party relaxed me even further. Santana sat beside me in the back, her hand on my left thigh, acting as a constant reminder of our 'date' earlier.

When had Brittany Pierce ever gone on a date?

Santana had ordered two watermelon slices and I'd surprised myself by eating three quarters of mine. She'd had spaghetti with hers and had insisted we try the lady and the tramp thing with one piece. So I'd done that and her smile had been worth it. She had patiently waited for me on the wall outside my family's villa whilst I had cleaned and changed my bandages and even when we passed my family on the way back down to the beach, she didn't question me any further after my brother had called reception to tell me I should have taken a shuttle.

So we were sat in the back of this jeep her dad had rented for us, with her friend Puck in the driver's seat, a boy named Kurt riding shotgun and that Rachel girl, a blonde chick called Quinn and a blonde kid called Sam in the middle.

Puck seemed to know where he was going and even though I'd told them I'd been to St Lucia a thousand times, they still didn't get that I'd never left the resort. But Santana kept her hand on my thigh and when one of them asked me a question, she squeezed it and rubbed her thumb up and down and I don't think I've ever been so soothed.

(I didn't stop to think about the fact I didn't know how to handle having a girl's hand on my leg. I just registered the volts shooting up and down my bones.)

The street party was thumping and completely alive. I'd never seen so many barbecues being cooked at the same time. They lined the road and filled the air with the demanding smell of roasting meat and had it not been for Santana's hand on the small of my back, I would have had a panic attack right on that busy street corner. But she was wearing this cute (tight) black top and short floral pink skirt, with her tanned legs falling down like summer waterfalls and having _her _hand on the small of _my _back made me feel like I could achieve anything.

Even walking down the middle of a street party with food at every line of sight.

Puck told us all that if we split, we have to meet by the purple bar which was just across the road. He and Sam slung their arms around each other's shoulders and soared into the rowdy crowds and I'd lost sight of them in seconds.

Kurt and Rachel seemed to be acting slightly the way I felt, with their eyes doing double takes everywhere and their arms tucked tight around their middles.

"It's okay, you two," Quinn offered, slipping her arms around them both, "Let's get Rachel away from the pig and find the harbor."

They walked ahead of Santana and I and whilst my heart was beating super fast and the music was super loud, I still heard Santana's whispered, "are you okay?" from behind me.

I turned around and smiled at her. "I think so."

She smiled back, looking like she was about to say something but then chickened out. She looked quickly to the side of her where a resident, clearly high, thrusted his groin into her side and threw his hands up into the air in celebration. "Ew," She muttered, slipping her hands around my waist and pushing us along.

(I can't even describe the butterflies I felt at this moment.)

Once we'd made it past the barbecues and Santana had whispered several "look straight ahead's" in my ear, we found the harbor a little further past the main dance area and sat amongst the boats with a few beers Quinn had bought for us. I gave mine to Santana, who in turn ordered me a water and winked as she sat beside me.

A couple hours later and I guess everyone seemed to have loosened up, since Puck and Sam had returned and dragged nearly everyone onto the dance floor and I found myself sat alone with Quinn, my heart beating fast with anxiety.

"So you've been here, what? Like, ten times and you've never been to one of these before?"

I felt myself calm down since Quinn's voice floated through the night air like feathers in the wind.

"I guess it's not my family's scene."

She nodded and then smiled endearingly. "Mine either."

"Who are you here with?" I asked, wondering if all of Santana's friends had lost their mum or someone else from their family.

"My parents," She replied, smiling at me and leaning back on her palms. She sensed my next question. "I lost my older sister five years ago. She drank a lot and got into drugs and I guess her liver just couldn't take much more."

Meeting Santana and all her friends made it all too aware to me that I have no idea how to deal with other people's tragedies.

"That must have been horrible," I settled for, tucking my hair behind my ear quickly. "But I think it's a really lovely thing what Santana's dad has done for you guys and your families."

Quinn seemed to smile like I'd just told her she was beautiful.

(I guess she kind of was? Not Santana beautiful but beautiful all the same, with her green eyes and perfectly kept blonde hair. For a moment, I felt embarrassed about mine but earlier, Ohana had braided it better than I could have done it and I didn't feel so bad anymore.)

"Santana's spoken to you about everyone I take it?" Quinn asked innocently, even thought my cheeks burned because maybe she wasn't meant to say anything?

"Don't worry," Quinn reassured, cocking her head to the side. "I think it's good that she's talking."

(and that made me wonder if Santana was more like me than I first thought.)

I watched as a gentle breeze blew Quinn's hair over her shoulder and out towards the rocking boats in the harbor.

"Did she tell you about the others?" The smaller blonde asked, glancing over at her friends.

I shook my head no.

Quinn seemed to think for a moment, before she sat herself up straight and took a breath.

"Well Kurt over there, he lost his brother a couple years ago in Afghanistan. Finn, his name was. Rachel's boyfriend." She explained, smiling affectionately at how Rachel and Santana span in circles around Kurt. "Puck lost his dad to drink as well and Sam was in a car accident with his little sister and brother and he was the only one who made it. He was driving as well. The boy's a hero for how well he's coped."

(and I thought Santana and Quinn's stories had been heartbreaking enough.)

"Jesus," I muttered and Quinn looked down at her feet.

There was a shyness about Quinn and it was sort of intriguing. Her cheeks didn't ever pink like Santana's did whenever we caught each other's eyes, but she still somehow managed to look content and reserved in the most innocent of ways. She looked at her friends the way a male lion would look over his pride - protective, warm, _proud._

(it made me feel elated.)

As the night continued, I couldn't help but think how fucking pointless and unreasonable my reasons were for feeling the way I do. What even were my reasons? I had none. I just felt like this because my family didn't like me. And here I was, dancing on a street with happy, smiling and laughing people, who didn't even have a complete one.

I marveled in the way Quinn was able to throw her arm around Rachel like she was her sister and the way Puck was always on the lookout for Kurt and how Sam held Santana close when men tried to dance with her. And I marveled in the way they just accepted me into their group, holding my hand and making me sing for the first time in years.

So when Santana leant across to me in the back of the jeep on the way back to the resort, placed her hand on my thigh and her head on my shoulder, I felt _happy _for the first time in however long I could remember. And then when she lifted her lips to my ear and whispered, "Can I take you on another date tomorrow?", instead of the panic that would usually course through my body like a fire surge, I felt myself smile, genuinely, because maybe, just maybe, there was a part of me that actually _was_ okay.


	7. Paris At Night

**To the reviewer asking about Santana's accent, I once met a girl who was from Melbourne but had lived in England and America and I can't explain her accent other than that every single word would be pronounced in either one of the places she'd lived in! So I've based Santana's accent on that.**

**Also, I got a PM telling me that I don't get many reviews because I don't promote my stories. How does one promote their fics? Or is that, like, the most stupid question of life? I don't even know. Either way, I love this story and I feel like it needs telling, so reviews or not reviews, you're getting it haha! **

**Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy x**

**The Sixth Day**

You wanted to take her on the boat trip with you. You wanted to see her face when you held her hand, squeezed it tight and let the wind rip through your hair as the boat sped down the west coast of the island. You wanted to see her grin like she'd just witnessed a miracle and maybe it was possible to see one again.

You wanted to see the island with her.

It had been Puck's idea. He'd gone straight to water sports who booked it up for you. You were leaving in half an hour and whilst the others were at breakfast, you'd grabbed a shuttle and gone straight to the top.

And now that you had knocked on the door and were faced with what looked like a bald man in his late fifties who was looking at you like you'd flown straight in from Mars, you were wondering whether it had been the right idea at all.

"You want Brittany?" He asks for what seems like the twentieth time.

"Yes," You reply, frowning again. "Is she awake?"

He seems almost offended by your question at first and then he just looks baffled. "Well, I-I-I don't know, Karen dear?" He calls behind him, "Do you know if Brittany is awake?"

"How would I know?" Is screeched from the door to the right.

He turns to look at you as if he's sorry but he's not and raises his shoulders in defeat. "Sorry, dear."

"Father, wait!" A masculine voice comes from the stairs behind the man. He's ginger and you wonder, for a moment, if you've even got the right villa. "Brittany is awake." He turns to you. "Do you want to come down?"

You quickly follow him down two flights of stairs and across a hall to Brittany's bedroom, thanking the ginger guy as you walk in. All you can see is a mop of blonde hair splaying out of the white sheets and you laugh to yourself because if Brittany had been awake five minutes ago, she definitely wasn't now.

You tip-toe round to the side she's facing and you have to pause for a moment because for the whole time you've been studying Brittany, you've never seen her look quite so peaceful. Even when you first saw her perched on the rocks down by the beach and she was staring into the waves, she still had her eyes squinted and her eyebrows furrowed. But right now, nothing was clenched and nothing was uneven. Everything was still and perfect.

Bending down to your knees, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and sigh deeply. You'd been honest when you told Brittany you'd never met someone like her before - she _was_ different and she _was_ refreshing. But she was just so sad and you wanted to know why. More than anything. Because she was beautiful and her eyes told more stories than you think a storyteller could imagine in his whole life. They were sunken in to her face and you wondered how long they'd been stuck there for, deep purple rims shading the outlines of them like barriers to her mind, soul and heart.

Her lips were cracked and it took all your might, every day you'd seen Brittany, to not kiss them together again. You imagined her heart was probably much the same - a battlefield of splintered arrows she never quite managed to shoot through the middle. And the first time you'd really seen her body when she'd crashed into you on her paddle board had made you want to cry because how can someone so beautiful see something entirely different?

You spend your whole time, with Brittany, trying desperately hard not to pull her into your chest and hold her until she fuses to you and you provide her with the thread to stitch herself together again. And it's no different now as you watch her sleeping, with the morning sun painting her forehead gold and her long eyelashes fluttering against cheeks that shouldn't point so much.

"Brittany," You whisper, so delicately, you don't think she hears.

She stirs slightly and rolls even further into her sheets and it's the first time you notice she's topless. You suddenly feel like you're violating her privacy and you briefly wonder whether you should call the ginger kid back in here to wake her up.

You stand up to move away but just as you do, Brittany murmurs into the morning, "don't go."

You pause because did you hear that right?

"Come back," the blonde murmurs again, except it sort of sounds like a whine and you find yourself grinning so wide because if you could hear that every morning...

You step back to her side and kneel carefully down again. "Hey," You slowly smile.

She opens her eyes and smiles back at you. "Hey." She looks like she knows nothing but happiness and your heart hurts because just by looking at Brittany, a beautiful cradle of bones wrapped in a thin sheet of white, you know that's not true.

She blinks heavily and it's like she doesn't realise who you are.

"Did you still wanna go on another date today?" You tentatively ask, leaning your elbows and your knees. You're worried for a moment that she doesn't actually recognize you and any moment now she's going to scream at you to get out.

She smiles lazily into her pillow. "What does it entail?"

"A boat," You tell her, cocking your head. Her eyes widen and she suddenly looks more alert and awake than before. "Or not? I mean, we can just do something, you and I, on our own."

She frowns, "No, no, a boat sounds awesome." She frowns even more.

"Are you sure?" You're really worried now.

"Santana, how did you get into the villa?"

You're thrown by her question because she definitely knows it's you and she's definitely not bothered by the fact you just woke her up.

"Oh," You answer, indicating the door. "At first some bald guy answered the door but then this ginger dude saved me and let me in."

She looks confused and you want to put your hand on her forehead and release the crinkles you find there.

"Should I not have come in?" You ask, because now you're also confused.

She looks like she's battling with something and you want to tell her that it's okay. That she's okay, but you can't and you won't because she looks more scared and more nervous than a lost baby lion cub.

Sometimes you wish your mom was here to tell you what to do in these situations. You've never had to deal with a terrified girl except yourself before and your mom had blasted through that like a tidal wave.

"_Santana, you will make the most perfect wife one day and I wish more than anything that I could meet the woman who will make you terrified in the right way."_

Brittany had you terrified. Brittany had you wanting to hand your heart over and never asking for it back.

"Santana," She whispers, reaching for your arm and grasping it like a goddamn lifeline. "Thank you for waking me up."

You bite your lip because you hadn't been expecting that. Smiling, you reply, "That's okay, Brittany."

She smiles shyly at you, her cheeks pinking and her eyes growing a darker, blushing shade of blue. She looks like she's just realised where she is and where you are and how you're there together and it makes your heart tumble in your ribcage because you've never completely met someone who you think is actually _adorable _before.

You turn around respectfully as she gets out of bed to get changed. She laughs at your decency but you can hear how thankful she is in it too. By the time you're leaving the villa, you've caught Brittany's eye about eight times and found yourself wanting to hold her hand about nine.

Your friends are waiting by the boat and as you pass water sports, you pick up one of their free bananas and place it in your bag. The boat is perfect for what you have planned. Your driver, Marlin, allows you to sit on the front deck and whilst he's reversing off the dock, you get Brittany to sit with her legs either side of the front metal railing and you sit behind her with your legs around hers.

"Is this okay?" You ask, placing your hands on her waist. You feel her shudder.

She nods her head and you both look straight ahead again as the boat picks up speed out of the bay. She's wearing a long sleeved navy t-shirt which you know is to cover up her wrists. She may be chilled about them at night in crowds but in the day time, you understand how much harder that must be. You want to let her know that she's okay with you and your friends, so you place your hands on her bare thighs and kiss the side of her neck and you know that maybe you shouldn't be so hands-on but Brittany is beautiful and she's perfect and she's okay. She's really okay.

She turns to smile mischievously at you and you realise that kissing Brittany's skin is like keeping a secret you will never not be able to keep.

And then her face when you spot some dolphins has you clutching at your chest. You catch the way her eyes light up like she can't quite believe that they're real in front of her and if you could scribe a moment onto a scroll and bury it for centuries later to find, this would be the one.

Puck makes you laugh when his face lights up in a similar way. He runs to the side of the boat and Quinn screams because she falls to the other side. Puck catches her and you smirk at the way she slaps him angrily. Kurt and Sam sit at the back of the boat, their knees bent over the end to spot the dolphins from that angle and Rachel sits under the shade, snapping pictures of everyone on her iPhone.

Brittany shifts within your legs and you ask her if she's okay.

"Yeah," She breaths, placing her hand on your thigh, without seemingly thinking about it.

(The way it burns makes you close your eyes.)

"When I was a kid," She turns to whisper just at you, "I used to think that dolphins were just gay sharks."

Her face is cheeky and you wonder if Brittany always looks this beautiful when she's carefree. You want to make it your mission to make her feel this way as much as possible. And then it sinks in what she's just said and you laugh so loud, Puck and Quinn shoot their heads in your direction. You smile at them and they both wink back, arguing over who saw the biggest dolphin.

"Well I guess that makes me a dolphin," You murmur in her ear and the way she hums in half amusement half nervousness makes your heart pound terrifyingly happily.

The driver slows to a gentle pace down the rest of the island and your friends strip their clothes off and begin sunbathing on the back deck and along the sides. Brittany doesn't take her top off and that's okay. You reach for the banana you put in your bag and peel it open. You offer Brittany half and say to her so only she can hear, "half for you, half for me, yeah?"

She eyes it like it's a grenade and so you take it out her finger, bite off the tip and hand it back to her and murmur, "now you've got my saliva on it so basically, you eat that, you may as well be kissing me and I know you totally wanna do that."

She grins slowly and places it in her mouth and once she's swallowed, she mutters into the breeze, "your kisses taste good."

_well fuck._

You want to know if it's possible to know your soulmate, whatever that means, the moment you see them. You think it is but sometimes you get scared and you don't know what of. You really want to know, though. Because when it comes to Brittany, you have this insanely intense waterfall of emotions that surges right through your chest and into your heart and you've only known her a few days. And you're kind of wondering if you're crazy thinking about soulmates and love and everything in between right now but you look at Brittany and she's wonderful and you just want to protect her, forever, and let her know that she will be okay again.

Is that how you're meant to feel about a soulmate?

You don't know why you're so drawn to her but she sat on those rocks that morning and she looked like everything your mom had told you to wait for and when you'd seen her sat with her family that evening, her meal barely scraped and her dress hanging in places it shouldn't, all you could notice was the way her eyes shone so fucking blue you thought that maybe you were drowning or falling underwater and nothing was going to stop that feeling. And since the very moment she crashed into you, you have not once been able to take your eyes off her for a split second. You want her and you want to know what it's like to be with someone like her.

And that terrifies you.

The sun glistens on her paler skin like you're flying over Paris at night. She's leaning on your chest at the front of the boat and the way her back presses against your heartbeat makes you feel needed and wanted and purposeful. You keep your hands on her thighs and after a while she places hers on top and you wonder how she's not screaming at you for overstepping a line. But it feels perfect and it feels right and she seems content for now.

Marlin pulls up outside a quirky looking restaurant at the bottom of the Pitons where you have lunch. It's a buffet and whilst everyone else piles their plates high, you slip your arm around Brittany's waist and tell her you're sharing a plate with her and it's her selection. She mainly chooses salad and vegetables but you manage to add on some fish and the two of you sit on the opposite end of the table to your friends. They seem to understand the situation and you've never loved them more.

Watching Brittany around food is difficult. She's instantly prickly and you realise if she let's you stick around it's going to take a lot of learning to understand how to hold her properly and handle her without dropping her.

You get Brittany to try the fish and she seems to enjoy it. She even wipes a bit of sauce off your lip and licks it and where you'd usually feel grossed out, you can't help but want her even more.

After she's had the last roasted pepper, the two of you make your way back to the boat whilst the others stay with Marlin at the restaurant. You let Brittany hop on first before hopping on yourself. You go back to the front deck and lie down on your back with Brittany beside you.

You turn to sit up on your elbow facing her. She knows you're watching her because she opens her eyes where they've been closed in the sun and stares back at you. You grin slightly. She grins back.

"You're really pretty, Santana," She whispers and you want to jump off the boat in elation because you didn't think you'd hear her say that.

"My god and so are you," You whisper back, the wind blowing your hair behind you. You can tell she wants to say something but you don't push it since you don't really know what you want to say either. So instead, you take your pointer fingerand you take it to the hem of her navy shirt. You keep your eyes fixed on hers since her breath hitches and you don't want her to freak out. You lift it slightly and move your hand underneath so that you can feel her soft skin that settles there. You draw your fingers in patterns all the way up her navel and back down, across down her sides and back to her lower belly until you can feel her relax beneath you.

By the time your friends return, your finger has danced all the way down her bare legs, dangerously close to the top of her inner thighs and up to the bottom of her chest, grazing there ever so slightly. And not once did Brittany ever take her eyes off you.

And it's later on that evening, when you return, and Brittany takes your hand in her own as you walk back to the shuttle stop and leans forward to kiss your cheek goodnight, that you really know you want her.

That you think Brittany Pierce might just crazily, stupidly, wonderully be your soulmate.

Please review if you'd like! It would make my terribly disastrous week. Thanks guys! :)


	8. Fires

**Firstly, I'd really love to thank you ALL because to me, you reviewed this story's ass and it made me sooooo happy! :) so thank you. But I'd like to special mention 'luceroadorada' since you practically reviewed nearly every chapter and 'rhnalis' because you never review and you did my story and that means more than chocolate covered strawberries on a spring day so I love you a lot :) **

**But, saying that, I really struggled with this chapter. Because Brittany isn't well but that doesn't mean she has to come across as pathetic. I HATE when I see young girls believing that if they harm themselves, some boy/girl is going to come along and kiss their scars all better. Because even though that's beautiful and romantic and really lovely to think, they're not because self-harm is a gross addiction and nobody wants it. I know this - you really don't want it. So trying to write the way Santana behaves around Brittany's scars was really difficult but being a writer, I don't think I executed the 'realistic' approach very well haha! But let me know what you think. I'm a dreamer and I guess I can't escape from that.**

**Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy x**

**The Seventh Day**

My heart hadn't stopped beating so fast for the whole night after I'd held Santana's hand and kissed her cheek goodnight. It had felt amazing and so right and yet I was fucking terrified.

I'd even woken up desperately gutted that Santana hadn't woken me up again. And however much I wanted to tell myself that I didn't know why I was so gutted, I couldn't seem to block out the loud voice yelling in my ear that it was because I liked her.

Liked her _how_ though?

I wanted to hold Santana's hand. I wanted to kiss her on more than just her cheek and I definitely wanted to taste her. The smell of coffee just wasn't enough on my senses; I needed it everywhere else and I almost felt like I needed it now.

Like, right _now_.

I'd never felt this kind of urgency before, especially with a person. An urge that wasn't going to immediately harm me. Or kill me.

(maybe. probably. hopefully?)

Thinking of Santana made me want to give her everything. If I could take all the stuff that's in my head and heart and lay it all out on a tray, I would give it to her. And I wasn't too sure what to do with that thought because what did it mean?

Yesterday on the boat had been blissful and had her friends not been surrounding us, I couldn't even comprehend what I would have tried to do with Santana. I just had to look at her and it was like she knew something about me that even I didn't know and that comforted me. That comforted me a lot. Like she knew what was going on even though she didn't. Like I was a story and she never wanted it to finish.

I don't know, it was weird. No one had ever looked at me like that. But then again, no one had ever been Santana and I was more fucking grateful for that than anything else.

She was just beautiful and I guess I couldn't put it any other way.

So when I had woken up and she hadn't been there, I don't think I'd gotten out of bed so quick since all this began. It was like I needed to see her, especially her eyes, to know that the day would be okay and that it wouldn't end on the floor of my room in a mess I don't really want to think about. She oozed comfort right into me and I just had to be around it.

(i also wanted to stare at her lips for as long as i could but i didn't tell myself that when i skipped out the door this morning.)

She'd been playing with Ohana on the beach when I found them again around midday. She almost took my breath away, the way she was swinging Ohana around and her hair was flying in circles around her face.

There was an older man with them the spitting image of Santana and when he saw me, he smiled and knew instantly who I was. Santana blushed but smiled so wide, I felt incredible.

Her dad wasn't like any dad I'd met before. He picked Santana up and threw her in the sea and made jokes about her nipple piercing and I wondered how he knew about it since most fathers wouldn't.

(I tried to ignore the burning in my lower belly when I imagined the piercing.)

But Santana didn't seem to be bothered that he knew and laughed with him when he joked that soon she would get it stuck in all her wristbands in the shower.

"What do you think I do in there?" She squealed, slapping him on the arm.

"Well, you never know with you youngsters." Her dad quipped back, shying away from her next slap, a smirk on his face. "You're all horny and crazy these days, you could be up to anything."

Santana chastised her dad and smiled apologetically at me but I felt fantastic.

I felt almost free and I couldn't explain why.

Her dad invited me to dinner with them the next night at a karaoke bar since apparently it was Santana and Ohana's favourite and I'd rather be with Santana than my family so I said yes. When he'd left to take Ohana to the kid's pool, Santana turned to me and asked if I wanted to go on a road trip around the island with her and I could not think of anything else I would rather do with her.

"What part of America are you from?" She asked, as she drove the jeep out the resort's gates. She looked hot and I felt like I finally understood where the girls at school had been coming from when they'd drooled over boys in magazines.

"Ohio." I replied, shielding my eyes from the sun. "You?"

Santana grabbed a pair of sunglasses from her bag and handed them to me. I smiled in thanks as she put a pair on as well.

"I'm actually from Sydney, that's where I grew up." She explained, turning onto the main street and heading south. "My mom was Australian and my dad couldn't bear to be without her so he stayed there and two years later, I was born."

I loved listening to Santana's voice and in the Caribbean air, it sounded ten times more tropical. You could almost smell the coconut dripping off it.

"And then when Ohana was born," She continued, indicating to over take a boy and his cow, "We moved to England because my father is a baker and they wanted to open up his chain in London. They wanted one in New York but my dad wouldn't go because the health care system was free in England and with my mom being so ill, we really needed that. So when mom passed away, she'd told him to go straight to New York and we've been there ever since."

I kept looking at Santana whilst a silence stretched out between us and when she turned and caught my eye, I smiled sadly and she winked back, clearly used to telling that story. So I reached across the middle compartment, took her hand in mine and interlocked our fingers. Once again, that same nervous heartbeat picked up and my hand felt on fire.

Santana had a small smile on as we drove further south, absentmindedly playing with my fingers, her other hand on the wheel. It felt so lovely, what she was doing and the fact we were driving together, just us two, where I could stare at her without worrying her friends were going to tease me.

And boy did I want to stare. She looked beautiful. She had a strapless black bikini on under a loose fitting black muscle tank with light faded baggy denim shorts, a leather belt and black converses, her hair tied up in loose knot at the top of her head and a red and gold tie circled around her hairline.

_Stunning._

"You're staring," Santana said as we got closer to the airport. She smirked.

I grinned, looking down at my lap and blushing because I kind of felt like I didn't have any reasons to not stare anymore.

"I wish I could stare at you right now, too." She added and it made my heart flip.

We pulled up at a southern beach a half hour later and we managed to find a secret cubby hole near the back of the beach under a load of palm trees. Santana rolled out two towels and unpacked a huge bottle of water and a massive watermelon and two packets of Doritos.

She didn't tell me I had to eat a certain number. She just opened them and left them in between us. And because of that, I forgot about them and Santana had me talking about things I hadn't thought about for a really long time. Things like how on my fourteenth birthday back at school, my friend's Freya, Dora and I took part in a sort of dance off in the halls of the dance studios and we were against only boys yet we still won. And how we always put oranges and cucumber in our water because we were convinced it made our hair glossier.

And then sometimes Santana would seem to be just talking with her eyes. And I don't know how that was possible.

"Did you like school?" She asked, resting on her side, her head in her hand.

I smiled at then and replied, "I guess so. It was better than being at home anyway."

"Yeah," She smiled appreciatively. There was a beat before she said, "I would love to see you dance one day."

My heart sped up and I wasn't sure if it was because I hadn't danced in a really long time and wanted to (desperately), or whether it because it scared me slightly to think of Santana watching me.

"Maybe someday." I told her, getting slightly distracted at how warm her brown eyes were. "I'd like that."

She leant forward then, as if she was about to crawl on top of me and for a moment, I didn't bat an eyelid since the way she moved towards me felt so natural and normal. But then she hovered directly above me and looked down like she was looking at buried treasure. She lifted her finger and pressed it to my nose and I giggled. And then she took it to my temple and tucked my hair behind my ear so gently, I found my teeth over my bottom lip and my forehead creased.

And I stayed as still as I could as she traced her finger down to my brow and smoothed it with her thumb tip, my heart beating so fast, I wasn't sure it was beating at all.

"Britt," She said, looking so beautiful in just her bikini, "lets go in the ocean."

So we did. And for the first time that holiday, I didn't feel like my bones were going to break every time a wave crashed over me. Maybe it was because I felt stronger with Santana but I think it was because she had her hand in mine the whole time.

She was laughing and every time she fell over from a wave crashing into her back, I laughed too. She was so cute and so perfect and why was I thinking these things?

But then we got out I realised I'd lost both bandages on my wrists and I suddenly felt naked and my throat closed up as my hands fumbled to decide which wrist to cover up first. My breath quickened and my head went all faint and I thought I couldn't collapse in the sea because I'd drown and Santana wouldn't notice since I couldn't see her anymore.

"Fuck," I tried to choke out but it sounded a lot more like a wail as my head went fuzzy and my chest felt like the blood there was doing laps. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

I tripped over my own legs and I thought I was going to faint and it was all I could do to remain covering up the huge pink lines that decorated my wrists like deep vertical craters, lined up like soldiers and yelling at me in their angry painful voices. My knees stung as I fell to the ground and my breath completely went and I'm sure my eyes were swaying all over the place.

I did _not _want this to happen with Santana.

"No, no, no, no."

"Brittany?" A voice came when my mind was swirling. "Britt?"

I heard splashing beside me and suddenly I was lifted out the water and under the palm trees and trying to breathe was like trying to open your eyes when you first wake up. I got stuck there, like my throat was refusing to work anymore. And the panic that swept through my veins was like a torpedo on a mission to destroy the world and in my mind, I kept hearing the words, 'this is it' and I didn't know what that meant, I was just trying to focus on not passing out and getting rid of the pins and needles in my legs.

But Santana held my chest to hers and looked me straight in the eye and literally demanded, "Breathe."

Again, and again, and again, like it was actually me who had forgotten how and not my throat.

"Breathe."

There were flashing things in my vision and I did try to do as she was saying but I couldn't concentrate on anything other than my throat and how it was pulling in on itself.

"Brittany," Santana's voice shot through my thoughts. It was almost scary how demanding and authoritive it was. "Breathe."

And even though it felt like inhaling toffee, eventually I did.

When I finally came round and realised what I'd done, I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes in so much embarrassment because fuck, how had I lost control so easily?

"Oh, shit," I almost cried.

Then I remembered my wrists and before I could grab them to cover them, Santana caught them in one hand and brought her other hand to my chin.

"Don't even think about it." She said, her bottom lip trembling. And I wanted to kiss it because it shouldn't be trembling.

Was she scared?

"Santana," I gasped, but she silenced me instantly.

She moved all our picnic stuff out of the way, lay herself down and brought me into her chest so I was cradled there. Her hand was in my hair, rhythmically stroking it, over and over, her heartbeat echoing into mine and slowing it completely.

I think we were sleeping for a good two hours. I felt like I'd slept for a thousand years.

We woke up when the sun had nearly set and because I moved, Santana sat up slowly and brought me with her. We watched the last rays of the sun disappear behind the tree tops to our right huddled under a towel together. She found my jumper and placed it over my head and she was so delicate with my wrists as she pulled them through, it was like she was handling stardust.

Without a word, she packed all our stuff into her bag, slung it over her shoulder and scooped me up. I clung to her neck and before I could stop myself, I'd already leant down and kissed the dip where her neck reached her collarbone.

(I swear I just wanted to taste it. Just once. Just to see what it was like.)

She paused.

I'd kissed her there again before my mind caught up and this time I held my lips on her skin. She seemed to shiver back into action and slowly dumped our stuff into the jeep and stopped to just hold me there, like she was cautiously waiting for my next move.

So I kissed further and further up her neck, along her jawline, until I reached her chin. I didn't know what I was doing but my tummy was in flutters and she just felt so amazing against my lips I couldn't stop if I tried.

I stilled as she propped me carefully down on the bonnet of the jeep and spread my legs either side of hers. I took in her coffee colored eyes in the fading daylight and then I took in her lips and her forehead and kissed her there. I kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her chin and when I went to her lips, her breath hitched so loudly, I thought she'd hiccuped.

I kissed the corner of her mouth first. Delicately. Softly. More gentle than I'd ever been with anything else. Her hair had fallen out of her knot long ago and it was now swept over one shoulder, damp from the ocean. I ran my fingers through it, before pushing it back over her shoulder and cupping her neck. And then I pressed her so lightly into me, our lips barely even touched.

But they did. Oh god they did.

She tasted of watermelon and it was all I could do not to engulf her. So instead, I stuck my tongue out and traced the outline of her lips, moaning at the taste and the way she felt against me. She let her mouth hang open slightly as I took her bottom lip that had been trembling earlier between my teeth and pulled her closer, taking my other hand and wrapping it around her shoulder. I brought my legs around her ass and she moaned when she fell even further against me. Her hands moved from my waist, up to my neck and with one swift movement, she had her right hand at the nape of my neck and her left clutching my jaw like I was suddenly going to vanish.

I let her run her tongue along the walls of my mouth and down my neck and along my collarbone and I sighed so fucking deeply when she moaned out, "beautiful," her head tilting sightly to the right and her fuller lips warming my whole mouth.

She was perfect and she was invading my senses and I adored it.

She sucked my whole tongue into her mouth and when she reached the end, she tapped it with her own tongue, kissed it gently on the top, then down each side, before swallowing it once more with her lips and I couldn't even decipher what my own name was.

She kissed my chin then like it was going to break and then she brought my arms upwards, interlocked our fingers and lifted me onto the bonnet so I was lying flat on my back. She stepped up onto the wheel, pressed her hands either side of my face, pulled back and looked at me, her chest heaving up and down in time with my hurtling heart. I lifted up onto my elbows and took her lips again, kissing her delicately before biting her bottom lip and bringing her down on top of me. When I released her, she smiled with her eyes still closed and I couldn't bring myself to think of anything else other than how beautiful she looked in this light.

(And then when she opened them again, she looked drunk on kissing and I smiled because I felt just the same.)

"Brittany," She breathed into the evening air, taking my hair and tucking it behind my ear. "I cant- I just...I... Wow."

I smiled because I knew what she meant.

An airplane took off behind us in the near distance and we both looked at each other at the same time. Santana grinned and I grinned and just as we were about to leap back into the jeep to head towards the airport, Santana took another look at me, kissed my collarbone, my neck, my jawline, my lips and then my wrist beside my face where one of her hands was interlocked. She looked back at me and whispered down against my lips, "mine."

I moaned and I definitely didn't mean to.

So I propped myself onto my elbows, leant forward and kissed right in the middle of her boobs and licked my way all the way back to her lips.

"And this," I whispered, biting her lip, "is mine."

(and I swear I've never felt more empowered in my life.)

(because here, right in this moment, with this brandy skinned Australian-British-American Latina girl draped above me like the most soothing nighttime sky, under a diamond canvas surrounded by coconut and vanilla and everything coffee, I was exactly where I was meant to be.)

Santana kept looking at me as we climbed back into the jeep and drove nearer the airport. She couldn't stop and neither could I and whilst the wind blew through our hair and the jeep hummed louder and louder as we picked up speed, she still had her eyes on me and for once, I didn't worry about the road. We had just done something which I knew had been accumulating since the moment we'd laid eyes on each other and it was so relieving and so beautiful and so fucking right.

Her smile didn't leave her face either and as we pulled up just outside the metal perimeter of the airport, she leant back in her seat and whispered, "you're so perfect, Brittany."

And I shook my head and told her I'd never seen someone as perfect as her. So she kissed my lips once more before climbing out the door and scooping me out the other side, all the while smiling, smiling, smiling.

_smiling._

She gently stood me up and took my hand and led me to the edge of the fence, the long grass around us tickling my thighs and making me all too aware of what had just happened with her. I felt my heart quicken and my smile grow and everything just seemed like for once, I was actually underwater when I wasn't.

(and despite what had happened on the beach, having a girl's hand in my hand and having a girl's lips kiss my lips was maybe that something I hadn't realised I'd been searching for my whole life and that maybe - just maybe - I hadn't been searching for adventure. Maybe I'd been searching for Santana.)

(and that was terrifying.)

We found a spot just at the end of the runway, beneath the long grass and swirling wind. No one could see us. And that made me feel invincible. We didn't know when the next plane was due to leave but judging from the fact one landed a couple hours ago and from where we were lying we could see tiny people in the distance boarding a dimly lit Boeing, we knew it wouldn't be long. So we turned onto our backs, looked up into the stars and waited. I felt Santana breathe next to me and I was reminded of earlier.

"I'm sorry, Santana, I-"

"Brittany." She interrupted, finding my hand in the grass beside me. I closed my eyes because nothing had really felt this good before.

"But really, Santana." I pushed, squeezing her hand. "You shouldn't have seen that."

She seemed to think about this for a while and I found myself desperately wanting to know what about.

"I just, I-"

"Brittany." She interrupted again. "Please stop."

(I wondered if she meant me talking or if she meant something else.)

We were silent for a solid ten minutes before she spoke so softly into the night air, it was like the insides of my ears were being massaged.

"Mom once had bandages like yours on her wrist." She whispered, tracing her thumb across my pointer finger where she held my hand. I felt my wrists burn from being naked and Santana instantly soothed them with her fingertips as she brought my hand to her chest and rested it there. She traced the patterns of the veins there and seemed to ignore the scars like bridges over them. "When I visited her the day she died, I didn't know it was our last day together. To anyone else, it looked like she was getting better but as I sat with her and held her hand in mine, she turned to look at me and she was so feeble. She had these dark circles around her eyes - purple, like she'd been bruised there. And maybe she had since simply opening her eyes in the morning was difficult."

I felt Santana swallow and so I rolled over and curled into her side. Santana instinctively started playing with my other hand as well.

"She looked so broken and so defeated and I knew that she wanted to go. I don't think she had a choice whether she was going to live or die but I do believe she had a choice whether it was when I was there or when I wasn't." She continued, pulling her lips in and releasing them in a gentle pop. They seemed to petrude more so than other lips I'd seen. I loved them.

Santana swallowed thickly and a faint smile sort of echoed at the corners of her lips. "Mom had told Dad to take Ohana to the park and as he swung her on the swings at the top of the hill that looked over London, he would know when she'd gone, since she didn't want Ohana to see her go and she didn't want him to see her looking so fragile in her last moments."

(Santana and her family were possibly the strongest people I'd ever met.)

"She died with my hand on her heart and I swear I could hear it slow and then stop."

I felt my heart clench and my eyes fill and it was the first time I'd cried in a while - and it wasn't even anything to do with me.

"But Brittany," Santana continued, tracing her fingers up and down my arm, "I swear it's like my mom knew about you. She used to say to me as we lay upon her hospital bed together that there would be someone I'd notice one day who I'd instantly want to protect and love and make smile every day. And she said I'd know the moment I laid eyes on them that there was something in them I needed to find and bring to life but with you, Britt..."

She trailed off and it nearly killed me because I was hanging on to every single word she was saying. People only said these things in movies and to have her so eloquently whispering them like a script she was writing whilst she was speaking made my heart feel like thunder.

She sighed and I pressed closer into her. She responded by pulling my arm right across her waist so it was draped there and I could have fallen asleep with the way she stroked her fingers up and down was I not so invested in what she was trying to say to me.

"You're so different." She finally settled for. I just waited patiently for her to continue. "You're so lost and so sad and so confused yet there's more life in you than anyone I've met before and I'm not sure where I see that." She paused like she wasn't sure she was allowed to say these things. I watched her as she crinkled her eyes in frustration and her nose flared a little before she opened her mouth again.

"Because I look at you and I can full on see that you are so obviously unhappy - your bones stick out at every chance they get and your eyes... Britt, they look just like my mom's did before she died and you just... You're so beautiful and you're so _right _and when I look at you, my whole body flips because it's like I'm looking at someone who stepped right out of my actual dreams and into my actual life and there is nothing I feel more in my heart than wanting to see you smile, every day, every single fucking day and I don't even know how this happened when at the beginning of this week, I didn't even know you existed."

My heart had picked up speed so quickly, I wasn't sure I remembered what it was like when it was slow. But Santana looked so honest and so painfully vulnerable in this starlight that I couldn't help myself when I crawled on top of her, pressed my knees either side of her hips and kissed her.

Hard.

And I wasn't even sure the tiniest bit where this urgency came from, I just knew that crawling on top of Santana and kissing her hard right now was my priority.

She kissed me back with so much vigor, I felt my heart expand and explode in my chest and had she not been resting beneath me, I was certain my ribs would have snapped and my spine would have crumbled in her palms.

And then we heard the plane start moving and I squealed slightly because I'd never done this before. But Santana pulled me close down to her side so we could both see and whispered, "are you scared?"

(and once again, I wondered whether she meant about the plane or something else.)

"A little, yeah," I replied honestly, gripping her waist and kissing her neck. I felt her smile and I knew it was because she was happy.

(I think I was too.)

"What if it doesn't take off?" I suddenly thought, lifting up and checking where the plane was. I saw it humming towards the start of the runway and I felt my stomach drop with anticipation.

Santana laughed. Loudly. "Britt," She breathed, pulling me down against her again, "just hold on to me, don't let go and I promise you'll be okay."

And I believed her.

Santana was like an angel to me. Someone who was so selfless and who would do anything for you, even if you hadn't asked. The kind of girl who would fight a war for you, just so you didn't have to and who lit fires in the darkness so you could find your way home.

I hadn't realised how much I'd craved being that person for her as well, until just this moment.

We could hear the plane get louder and louder as the pilot drummed the engine faster and faster and with every rolling turn of it's speeding wheels galloping towards us, my heart beat one beat quicker until all we could hear was the plane and each other.

I wanted to scream.

But then there was silence as it lifted off the ground, and right over our heads we saw the wheels and the lights and the engines float off into the distance and the most powerful gush of wind blew it's entire strength right over our bodies and I couldn't hold back my scream anymore.

It was so extraordinary I was momentarily deafened but we screamed so loud, I wondered whether I was screaming at the plane or at my family.

It was only when Santana turned to watch me scream that I knew the answer.

When the plane was some way over the ocean ahead of us and Santana had brushed the hair off my face and I'd brushed the hair off hers, I burst into laughter and then tears and then I wasn't so sure what it was I was actually feeling anymore.

We sat up together and Santana took my face in hers and kissed me again.

"Fuck," I said, wiping my tears off my cheeks, "Why am I even crying?"

Santana giggled. "Because you'll never have my J-Lo ass, I know, I get this all the time."

I burst out laughing again, pushing her back down into the grass, but it only made me cry more. So Santana reached her arm up, tucked my hair behind my eyes, wiped my tears with her thumb for me and looked at me quizzically.

"Beautiful," She whispered into the darkness and I couldn't understand how she could make me feel so many things in one moment.

"Really? Right now?" I replied, rubbing my eyes with my hands. Santana clasped my wrists and pulled them away from my face.

"Yes," She said sternly, as if she was surprised as well. "Now more than ever."

I stopped, sighed and bit my lip, looking at her. "Why are you so nice?"

She smirked. "I'm really not, babe," She said and it made my heart jump. "Ask Quinn or Rachel and they'll tell you a totally different story."

"Yes but they are so much stronger than I am, I bet if you insult them, they insult you back just as hard." I hiccuped then and it made me laugh.

Santana laughed too. "I would never insult you. I don't look at Quinn and Rachel and see what I see when I look at you."

I smiled then because Santana had a habit of saying things I never thought someone would say to me, and as we made our way back to the jeep, she clasped my hand again and I don't think there will be a day I won't lose my breath when she does that.

When we got back to the resort, nearly everyone was in bed and I wished more than anything I could get in Santana's. But she surprised me by leading me to the beach, grabbing some towels and climbing atop the stacked sun beds.

We didn't wake up until Valerie came over with a bowl of fruit in the morning and a lecture about sleeping on a public beach.

**Please review if you'd like! It would make my terribly disastrous week. Thanks guys! :)**


	9. Treacherous

**So I hope this story is going the way you want it. You may keep reviewing - I keep getting reviews for nearly all of my other stories, even one I haven't updated in years (?!) but not this one. But regardless of that, I wanted to know if any of you want certain songs in this fic? I will include Santana's version of Mine at some point but if you have any suggestion, do please let me know and I'll include them! **

**This chapter includes a very similar conversation I had with someone once and it almost felt too serious for my life? I don't know if any of you have ever had that, it's really weird but I just felt like what she was saying to me and what she wanted me to say back was like a script from a movie or something? And because I was so scared and confused I was kind of really awkward and made jokes here and there but in my head I had all these things I wanted to say, so what Brittany says in this chapter at the end is what I should have said to her. Anyway, massive babble over!**

**My tumblr is zerofourthreesix dot tumblr dot com. **

**Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy x**

**The Eighth Day**

You're staring at her again and its all you can do not to wrap your arms around her frail body and kiss her. But one, you'd feel like you were smashing her ribcage and two, the ginger dude was on the beach today with her and therefore, you could barely get near her.

And it was killing you.

Not only did you want to kiss her, you wanted to take her hand and ask her to show you the whole of the resort. You wanted to stand under the waterfall in the pool area and kiss her through the water. You wanted to go hermit crab hunting with her and Ohana. You wanted to sit with her under a palm tree and make bracelets for hours and then you wanted to tie every one you made around her wrists, her ankles, her head and her hips until everywhere was covered in multicolored weavings of you.

You wanted to be all over her body.

And then as if by fate, she looks up from where she's sat reading at the lunch table her brother has got them and looks over at you, her expression changing from confused to relieved in moments.

She smiles so peacefully that you could possibly miss the way her eyes flicker in a certain sadness you're learning to read. But you see it, right there in the very depths of her pupils and for a moment, you think you're going to concave in on yourself but you hold your heart steady and wink back.

The way her cheeks pink makes you smile so big.

You had no idea Brittany was going to kiss you at the beach last night. You'd had no intention of doing so when you'd invited her on your road trip; the very sole reason you'd asked her was to remove her from the awful feeling you'd felt when you woke her up that morning in her family's villa. You didn't like it and although you didn't know Brittany's family, the way Brittany was and the fact she was always alone told you that something really wasn't right.

And you just wanted Brittany to have a good day.

But then she'd panicked and so had you nearly, and seeing her arms all pink and post stitches had made you want to cry because how can someone so _fucking beautiful _ever have the motivation to do that to themselves?

You hadn't understood it until Brittany collapsed into you and you finally realised that some pain really cannot be justified and the wounds sprouting on her wrists were simply reminding Brittany of that every single day.

But then she'd gone and kissed your collarbone. Twice. And you've never felt such a jolt in your heart as when she'd done that and then continued to kiss all the way up your neck and to your lips. And _god _when she finally reached them, your whole body fell into an abyss of surrender because by _fuck _the girl had you right in the palm of her hands and you had absolutely no choice about it.

It was honestly the best kiss you have ever had in your life.

And you knew, as Brittany was kissing you further and further into her heart, that knowing her and falling for her and being with her, was something you had no control over.

Brittany was yours, and you'd told her as much last night.

"Just go over and get her, San." Puck's voice rang behind you. You turn around to face him as he swims to the ladder of the wooden raft that floats in the bay.

"Her brother's there, I don't really wanna get in their way." You aren't sure if you were telling the truth or not, so you turn back around and let the sun warm your face again.

"When has Santana Lopez ever cared about brothers?" Puck smirks, lifting his body to sit next to you, rocking the raft and nearly making you fall off.

"Puck!" You reprimand, clinging to the sides. "Twat."

"San!" He gasps, feigning hurt.

He laughs and then so do you and the two of you sit in comfortable silence, your faces turned to the midday sun. You're kind of surprised he hasn't joined you out here sooner. Usually, wherever you go, Puck isn't so far behind and it's been that way ever since you met four years ago.

Back then, he'd had this stupid mohawk and you'd made a point of telling him, even though you didn't dig cock, that it was the worst hairstyle you'd ever seen in your life.

You'd been on safari at the time and he'd responded by punching your shoulder and moving to stand beside an orphaned giraffe who had stuck it's tongue out and started nibbling it off. You'd laughed but pulled Puck out the way, knowing that for however long you knew this kid, he'd do anything for you.

"San," He says into the coconut breeze, "do you remember that time in Georgia, when our parents sent us to that summer camp for over eighteens and you snuck into the boy's room and fell out the bed because the two of us couldn't just fit in one?" He laughs as he remembers and so do you.

"Oh my god, that hurt so bad, I don't even know why I bothered," You chuckle, your eyes still closed. "Fucking Kurt and his band aids and magic cream or some shit afterwards, I'd only fallen out a bloody bed."

Puck seems to laugh even more making the raft start shaking. "Nah, San, you just wanted to know what it felt like to sleep in the same bed as a guy and wake up with an erection digging at your back."

You slap him so hard he actually squeals and it's all you can do not to giggle because Puck seems to have that effect on you.

"How about no," You say sternly, pouting.

"Okay," Puck accepts, "But you at least crawled in with me 'cause you were scared of the dark."

"Puck!" You yell exasperatedly, standing up and pushing him to the side of the raft. You think you're gonna get him in but he manages to turn around and fireman lift you over to the other side. "Puck! I swear to god if you throw me in, you will never know what it's like to have a girl suck your dick again!"

"How so, San?" He mocks you even further, edging closer to the side.

"'Cause she'll be in my bed sucking mine!"

You scream because he pretends to pull back.

"Not unless Brittany's around."

You still suddenly and he senses it, so rather than throwing you in he pulls you back over his shoulder and stands you up again.

"Yeah," You say soberly, cocking part of your lip up and biting it. "I guess you're right."

Puck mirrors your smile and looks at you the way a big brother does his younger sister. "She's really got you, hasn't she?" He punches your shoulder gently and flicks your nose. You flick him off. It turns into a flicking match and before you know it, the two of you have fallen off the raft in a splashing ball of water.

When you emerge, Puck laughs and so do you.

"I was trying to avoid my whole head getting wet, Puckerman."

"Oh loosen up, Lopez," He snaps back, flashing you a smile. "Besides, I think Brittany will like it wet."

You catch his eyebrow wiggle and throw him an unimpressed glance.

"What? You guys are gay, you like each other wet." He says.

"Oh god, Puck, you have _so_ much to learn." You reply, shaking your head and throwing your eyes to the sky. "Girls are really hot when they're wet sure, but I'm not really looking for-"

"No," A voice from behind you interrupts, "Puck's right. I like your hair wet."

You hear Puck snort beside you as you turn around and suddenly treading water seems so much harder.

"Brittany?" You greet, your heart beating ten times faster. "Hey,"

"Hey, gorgeous,"

_fuck, you may as well just melt to the bottom of the ocean._

_is that even possible?_

"H-hi," You greet again and mentally slap yourself.

Puck laughs, kisses you on your temple, kisses Brittany on her temple and swims off, still laughing.

There's a little quiet for some time whilst the kids playing on the trampoline behind you fade away and the hum from the beach beats in time with your heart. All you can hear is the water paddling in mini waves around your hands as you and Brittany keep afloat.

It's then that you notice.

"Britt?" You say, reaching forward and taking her wrist in your palm. "Your bandages?"

She looks at you with pursed lips, so you swim her gently behind the raft with you and sit her on the ladder at the back. You stand up on the bottom step and hold onto the bar beside her face.

She surprises you by removing your hand and placing it around her neck. You grip her there without taking your eyes off her and it kills you how you can't just lean forward and kiss her.

But again, she surprises you and you find her lips on yours before you can check if anyone's looking.

"Brittany," You whisper into her lips.

She sits back quickly, looks suddenly like you're going to hit her and mumbles into the still air, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

Your heart breaks a little, so you open her knees up and settle yourself further into her. She doesn't look up, so you prop your fingers under her chin and whisper, "look at me."

She does and you kiss her again. Slower.

"I have been waiting for you all day."

She giggles into your mouth at your comment. "It's only half-past two."

You smile with her and tuck a stray blonde hair behind her ear. She's wearing a pink bikini underneath her white t-shirt and a warm feeling spreads through your veins when you realise it matches your lipstick.

_Brittany._

Your hand suddenly feels her bare wrist again and she glances into your eyes like maybe you have the answers to questions she doesn't even know exist.

And then you can't help yourself when you reach your arms around her waist, pulling her in tight towards you and "baby" tumbles out your mouth.

Her shiver makes your heart flutter.

And knowing that no one is around, you press your lips to her neck, the saltwater seeping through your lips and onto your tongue. You're leaving pink prints the further you kiss her, like a trail of magic butterflies, but your don't care - you know they'll wash off when you swim back.

She moans slightly under your touch and you kind of die inside because if you could make her feel this _good _every day, you would do it in half a heartbeat.

She moans again as you bite so gently on her jawline to lick all the way to her chin and when you reach her lips, you look right into her eyes, kiss her and rest your forehead on hers.

Her eyes flutter shut and you smile, staying exactly where you are.

"I ran out of bandage," She whispers, her breath catching on the small hairs on your nose.

You wait for her to open her eyes and when she does, you bring your right hand to her cheek and cup her face gently.

"That's okay," You smile, "Rachel has her uses sometimes. She's got some in her room. Come with me."

You step off into the water and pull Brittany in with you. There's so much that's beautiful about her and it nearly overwhelms you every time she moves. You want to hold her in the warmth of your arms until you know she's ready to walk by herself again. You know she does it every day but you want her to do it with her hand in yours so she's not always searching for that extra stability.

She climbs onto your back and laces her arms around your neck and you love that she doesn't even question whether or not you can carry her. You know you can - you lift back at home - and it fills you with so much happiness that she trusts you.

As you're swimming back, you notice her brother is no longer at Embers and so you speak just loud enough for her to hear, "You okay coming back to the the room with me?"

She giggles into your back, her legs swimming with yours. "Of course, silly."

"Just checking," You giggle with her, finding the sand with your feet and walking onto shore.

Brittany comes up behind you and you know more than you know the sky is blue that you want to hold her hand. But she's looking round terrified and you wish you could tell whether it was the way you clung to her waist or whether she couldn't think of anything but her wrists.

To distract her, you tell her to jump onto your back and she does, and when she places her arms around your neck, you kiss them and walk past the crowds like you've just found the best starfish in the whole ocean.

You didn't mean to crash into your dad on the way to your room and when he sees the way you're carrying Brittany, he instantly moves out the way and apologizes.

"Hey, Blonde Brittany," He greets, waving like a dork. You chuckle.

"Dad, you don't need to say she's blonde, we all know."

He winks at you. "Just making sure I'm not going colorblind."

Brittany laughs at this and you look at your dad with so much affection he frowns.

There's not really a man quite like your dad. You've always known he was special and different from a very young age because compared to your friend's dads at kindergarten, he was a completely different kind of person. All the other dads would pick their kids up in dark grey suits and black sunglasses, strap them in to the back of their big fancy cars with the tinted windows and drive off super fast, never uttering a single word. On sports days, all the other dads would always be looking at their watches and most would leave before their kid even ran their race. And if there were any sponsored events, it would be mostly moms helping with barely any dads.

Your dad, however, was always there. When he picked you up, he'd bring sandwiches and if you had a friend with you, he'd make them a sandwich too. On sports day, he won the father's race and raised the most money at every single charity events whilst your mom was waiting at the end with a bottle of water and a towel.

_Oh, your mom._

You miss her more than you can bare to think about. The way she would always tie your dad's apron just before he cooked dinner for you all. The way she always asked to wash and blow dry your hair and have baths with you when Ohana was born. How she taught you to do makeup and how if you were ever scared she'd know exactly what to say and exactly what to do.

And you wouldn't have to ask.

You miss laughing with her, smiling with her, hugging her, playing cards on Sunday afternoon whilst it poured with rain outside and making snow angels when it snowed. You miss her being with your dad and how even when they argued, they'd giggle straight after.

And then there's Brittany. And how you hate so much that you can't tell your mom about her. Because you are sure, even though you _know _that Brittany just walked into your life that week, that you are falling in love with her.

And that alone gives you so many butterflies.

Your dad grins at you knowingly and you blink a couple of times to stop your mind from wandering. For a moment, you can't help but think how strong your dad has been raising Ohana and dealing with a grieving seventeen-year-old.

Because you definitely weren't the easiest.

"So are you still joining us later, Brittany?"

The girl on your back slips off and comes to stand next to you, hiding her one wrist behind you like she's holding your waist and the other behind her own back. You reach through her arm and clasp the hand under her t-shirt and your dad simply beams.

"Of course," Brittany replies, smiling shyly.

"Great!" Your dad enthuses, clapping his hands together. "Santana will come by and pick you up about half six?"

"Perfect," Brittany nods and you both wave as your dad hops away happily.

You both turn to each other and giggle, almost like you're embarrassed. You smile at Brittany and she looks back at you like maybe you're a miracle when you can't help but feel like she is the definite miracle.

Up at the room, you tell Brittany to sit down on your bed whilst you go into Rachel's and search for her bandage.

"But my t-shirt is wet," She protests, clinging at it.

The last thing you want is for her to feel uncomfortable so you don't tell her to take it off. Instead, you smile and say, "that's okay, Britt. Sit down."

You turn around and watch the blonde from where you're standing as she rubs her face with her palms and then rubs her eyes. Hard. You want to tell her to stop because it looks like she's hurting herself so you quickly grab the bandage and some antiseptic wipes, close Rachel's door and walk back in. Brittany lifts her head and smiles lightly at you as you kneel in front of her, her knees stuck together in front of your chin.

She offers you her right wrist.

You're aware that she's letting you further in here, since she hasn't let you see her wrists this close up before and it makes you slightly nervous in case you touch them wrong. But you see the way the white stitch scars criss cross all the way down about three of the larger scars and how they look so sore that even if the air touched it, they would rip open again.

_You try really hard not to think about how Brittany did this to herself._

It suddenly occurs to you that maybe Brittany wanted to bandage her arms herself since she's been doing it the whole week but when you look up and catch her eyes, she's looking at you and she's asking you to look after her and you would never be able to say no if that was the only word you knew.

You peel open an antiseptic wipe, lift Brittany's arm into your palm and press it so gently around the perimeter of every scar, you may as well be a feather.

"Its okay," Brittany whispers, reaching out to stroke your wet hair.

Sighing, you lean into her touch, quickly pop up onto your knees and kiss her because you're not going to lie, this is horrible for you and you know Brittany is aware of that. She catches your lip before you can lower yourself down and it makes you smile. She smiles back and pecks your nose and you can't understand how someone can make you feel such a range of emotions in such a short amount of time.

"Baby," You whisper and once again, she shivers.

She smiles so beautifully.

You manage to clean the rest of her scars and bandage up the way your mom taught you in her hospital bed. You feel so overwhelmed that Brittany is alive, however, that you lean down and kiss both her knees.

After you've cleaned and bandaged the other wrist and given the rest of the roll to Brittany, you sit cross-legged and rest your head on her legs.

"Santana," She says softly into the quiet, making you look up at her. She looks worried so you sit up and climb onto the bed next to her. She turns to you and holds your hand. "I, um... I-"

"Hey, Britt," You whisper, cupping her cheek. "It's okay,"

She smiles and then bites her lip and you want to bottle it because when she smiles you swear swallows sprout from her cheekbones and you can literally see the ocean within the caves of her eyes.

"Santana, I don't know what I'm doing."

You frown because you're not entirely certain where this is going.

"I don't really know what I am," She continues, looking down at her lap. You prop her up with your fingers and stroke her bottom lip with you thumb. She kisses it.

"I don't know why when I'm with you, I want to kiss you and why I feel so normal and at home being around you like this and why it doesn't scare me in any way that I constantly want to hold your hand but I don't think it really matters whether I know because I like you, Santana and... and I know I'm... Ill," She settles for, shaking her head and looking down, "but being around you makes me forget that and kissing you makes me forget myself and I want that and I want you because I want to greet you in the morning with a kiss and I want to say goodnight with a kiss, so I think, what it is I'm trying to say is that, well-"

"Yes," You interrupt her because you know what her question is.

"Wait, yes?" She looks up sharply and frowns deeply at you.

"Yes."

"Yes," Brittany repeats you slowly.

"Brittany, I want to be with you."

The look of relief on her face makes you want to cry. "You do?"

You giggle and grab her face in your palms and you murmur happily into her lips, "God yes, yes, I fucking do, I want you so bad."

She giggles into your kiss. "This is amazing."

You lean back and study her face. Her hair is falling out her knot and into her eyes so you brush it away gently and look into her eyes.

She's beautiful.

You open your mouth to say something but Brittany cuts you off.

"If you call me baby right now, I might just die because it makes me feel like I'm about to fly away and I want to stay right here with you."

You smirk. "Okay, baby."

And she fucking moans. So loud. So genuine. Her eyes widen and you smirk again.

"I got the same when you called me gorgeous earlier." You confess, shrugging.

She grins. "I noticed." Pause. "Gorgeous."

You laugh and kiss her again.

There has never been anyone you have kissed who made you feel so much. Not like this. Brittany had you singing the alphabet with your tongue and painting masterpieces with your lips and you were sure this was exactly what it felt like to kiss your soulmate.

And then when Brittany tugged at your lip to pull you down onto the bed, you thought the world may as well have ended because all you could really concentrate on was the way she split her legs and pulled you down in between them and you are sure you have not ever been more settled in a place before.

She kisses right in between your boobs again, like she did last night and your whole body gets caught in goosebumps. She has you mesmerized under her tongue as she trails it all the way up your neck. You throw your head back and press your hands deeper into the bed to hold your neck up, allowing her better access. She thanks you by sucking your pulse point and then your jawline and then, _god_, she runs her fingers through your hair like she's trying to inhale you all at once.

"_Baby, baby, baby,"_ You groan out as her hands drain the water from your hair and down your neck so she can lick the drops off. She licks so hard she may as well be swallowing your skin. "_Fuck._"

She smiles as she kisses your words into her mouth, pulling your hair off your neck so she can run her fingers along the back of it. It makes you moan again and so you push further into her, grinding your hips down into hers and pushing your tongue so deep into Brittany's mouth, you can feel everything.

She grips your neck like she wasn't expecting it and it makes your head feel so light.

Her mouth tightens around yours and it makes you sigh deeply. She relaxes her lips and opens her mouth inviting you in again, almost hovering her tongue there provocatively. She licks your top lip once, then twice and then again. Her eyes dance and you smirk at her before opening your mouth and taking her whole tongue between your lips like it's a lollipop. Her eye contact with you doesn't once falter until you reach the end and hum along the tip and it's all she can do not to call out, so you suck back down once again and drink in whatever she was about to express.

Her neck tastes like saltwater and her collarbone tastes like sugar. The combination of the two makes you wild and when you lift yourself up to pepper kisses all around her shoulders, you pause because she's wearing her t-shirt and you don't want to remove it.

She flutters open her eyes and realises why you've stopped. Before she can think you're annoyed or something stupid, you lean down and kiss over the top of the t-shirt, once on her shoulder, once above her left boob and once just above her belly button.

When you bring your head back up she looks so thankful, you could cry.

But Brittany's eyes start to fill instead and before you can wipe the tears away, she takes a breath.

"One day," She whispers, breathing back tears, "One day soon, Santana, I promise I will let you see me, I promise, I-"

"Brittany," You shush her, kissing her forehead, "I already see you and you are beautiful. To me? That's all that matters."

She exhales slowly, eyeing you like she's expecting a 'but'.

"You're perfect," You tell her, kissing her. "You're my girlfriend and you're perfect."

She beams at that and closes her eyes almost in relief. "That makes me so happy."

And you've never grown wings until that very moment.

...

Quinn's one of those girls who hides a whole world of knowledge in her head and stores it there like a squirrel does it's nuts. Most people when they first meet her think she's probably the most angelic, popular and prettiest person they've ever encountered, which she is, but for all the reasons she isn't.

There's a beautiful comfort in being around her and talking to her and when you listen to her talking about something she's fascinated in, you cannot help but find that passion with her. Quinn's had you learning Chinese from a CD in your bedroom when you can't sleep and you're feeling lonely. She's had you achieving a level of flexibility during pilates classes that you never knew was possible for someone as un-flexible as you. (Thanks to Quinn, you can do the splits on demand now.) And then she's also had you volunteering on a Saturday at an elderly home when you were all on vacation in the Florida Keys, making them breakfast and listening to their many, many stories.

Quinn got people listening and in turn, it made people listen to everyone else.

So right now, you're listening to Quinn talking about Plato's theory on soulmates, on the balcony of your room, watching the sunset and thinking at the same time how glad you are that you had the opportunity to meet each other.

"So the gods didn't want to lose the tributes the humans had given them if they killed the humans off," She was explaining, her back against the glass doors, her legs splayed over Kurt's. "Zeus suggested splitting everyone in half, in punishment for being too confident and proud, which in turn left humanity incredibly miserable and really, really lost."

Kurt throws his head back and gasps. "Gosh, I don't know what I'd do without Blaine."

A rush of jealousy courses through your veins because there's always been a part of you that hated and loved how lucky Kurt had been when it came to being with someone. He'd fallen in love with the first guy he'd ever been with and that same guy fell in love with him. If you could go back and erase all the girls you'd spent countless nights trying to get a grasp of what exactly love was, you would. All the times you'd touched another girl and waited for a moan you never knew was coming, all the moments you'd looked into a girl's eyes and tried to find them looking back at you, all the hook ups you'd spent waiting for that explosion in your lower belly to reveal itself, make you think, _oh, right, yeah, there you are, I've been waiting for you._

You'd definitely enjoyed yourself, being with all these girls and learning what you liked and what you didn't like and what you wanted to do and what you didn't want to do. But there'd always been something missing and Kurt had found that something first time round.

It almost felt impossible to you.

"Well," Quinn continued, smiling affectionately at Kurt, "The humans were so sad and so unhappy that they all stopped eating. They refused to ingest a single crumb because they would rather die than live the rest of their lives without the other half of them."

You frowned to yourself because you were starting to understand Brittany more and more with every moment you knew she existed.

Quinn cracked her neck and Kurt squealed, telling her to stop. She giggled.

"Keep going, Q." You whispered, leaning against the balcony bars.

"So not having the humans eating, that was trouble for the gods because they needed them. Therefore, Apollo decided to reconstruct the humans in an attempt to sew them back together again but still only as one person. Their belly buttons were the only things that reminded them of what they used to be and subsequently what they had lost."

Your heart is beating so fast you think you might slip through the balcony bars.

"They say that when you meet your soulmate, whether that person is your mother, your father, your brother, sister or lover, you feel an overwhelming sense of understanding for one another. Some also say that your soulmate is the one person you can sit with for hours and hours without moving or speaking and yet be at your absolute happiest."

Kurt gasps again and plants his palm to his chest. Quinn giggles again.

"Oh, Quinn," He breathes, shaking his head in disbelief, "I must go text Blaine and ask him if he's heard of this theory before."

He kisses Quinn's head before lifting himself up and skipping inside. She chuckles at him before turning back to you and cocking her head.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks.

You sigh, running your hands down your freshly shaved legs and enjoying the breeze running through your long hair. "I wish I knew."

She purses her lips and moves to sit next to you. Her head rests on your shoulder and you sigh contently again.

"You know, I've never seen you think so much before, S." She comments, leaning further into you. You put your arm around her shoulders and pull her in. "You're so silent all the time, like you've been knocked for six."

You smile to yourself because you definitely have. In fact, you've been knocked for hundreds. Thousands. Millions. So far back, you don't even recognize who you used to be anymore.

"Q, I think I'm in love."

You brace yourself for what you think will be a long lecture on time, personality, immaturity and all the things you've seen in the movies but it doesn't come. Your eyes are even closed like Quinn's about to hit you and when you realise she hasn't and that she hasn't even said anything, you open them and patiently wait for her reply.

It doesn't come.

"Q?"

"Yes?"

You frown. "I just told you I think I'm in love and you haven't said anything."

Quinn is silent.

You wait.

"Quinn!"

"Santana," She laughs, sitting up and turning to look at you. Her pink dress matches the natural colour of her lips and if you weren't so focussed on what she wasn't saying, you would find yourself wondering why she hadn't been kissed since her daughter was born.

"Santana," Quinn repeats, grinning at you. "I believe in fairytales and magic kingdoms and prince charming's that never seem to exist. I believe in collecting fireflies in old jam jars and telling myself each one is a new wish. I believe in horseback riding in sunset waters and I believe in Plato's soulmate theory."

You still because you're trying really hard to work out where Quinn is taking this. She seems to notice.

"So when you tell me you think you're in love with someone," She explains, "that's like telling a Christian that you believe in God."

You frown again.

"You're in love, Santana." She nods her head certainly. "And that's okay."

You look down suddenly at your lap because you really were expecting her to rip you apart because sometimes Quinn could be really bitchy and forceful and headstrong and it wouldn't have surprised you if she turned around and got mad at you.

"If it's any consolation, San, I like Brittany. We all do."

You smile into your lap before looking up. "But fucking love, Q. I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to love. I don't know how to behave around love or be around love or cope with love in any way, like..."

You start shaking a little bit and Quinn slaps your cheek with a look that says _pull yourself the fuck together. _You gasp but take a breath anyway.

"I just don't know what's going on when I only met her this past week." You confess, rubbing your cheek. Quinn apologizes. "I don't wanna hurt her, she's the most amazing thing to ever happen in my life and I can't quite believe she's real and wants me and likes to be around me."

Quinn giggles. "S, you're pretty dope."

"Dope? Did Lucy Quinn Fabray just say the word dope?"

"Hey!" Quinn barks, pointing her finger, "What did we say about the word Lucy?"

You swallow an apology. "You did kinda slap me, so,"

Quinn fights back a smile. "Still."

"Still." You repeat, poking her nose.

You can hear Kurt on the phone to Blaine in his room and Ohana telling your dad what color shirt to wear in the room below. Puck and Sam appear at the glass doors dressed in pastel, their tanned faces glowing in the evening sun. You smile. Quinn smiles too.

They tell you their parents have gone for dinner at the restaurant at the top of the hill and they're heading down to the beach for some food. Quinn says she'll join them once Rachel and Kurt are reading and you explain that you're going out with your family and Brittany. They raise their eyebrows and coo at you but you laugh because you've told someone how you feel and you weren't taken down in any way at all.

The boys leave and soon, Rachel appears on the balcony and sits on the other side of you. She's dressed in a polka dot dress and her hairs still slightly wet from her shower. She slides open her phone and lifts it to take a photo of the sunset. When she closes the camera, you see a picture of Finn and her kissing as her background and it kind of makes your heart break.

You tilt Rachel's phone so you can see the photo better. Rachel lets you and releases a sigh.

"You guys look like you were the most beautiful couple." Quinn compliments from beside you.

Rachel beams. "Thanks, Quinn."

You look at the photo again and the way Finn's hand just seems to fit Rachel's cheek exactly and it makes you wonder if Rachel thought he was her soulmate.

"He was my person, you know?" Rachel whispers, running her thumb along his face. You guess so. "He was the only one for me. The only one I could see forever with."

Quinn smiles and reaches over your lap to hold Rachel's knee. "I definitely believe in soulmates." She turns to look at you and your cheeks burn.

"Yeah," Rachel smiles so big, "me too. Do you, San?"

You smile thinly and look ahead. "Maybe I'm starting to."

...

She's standing there with a baggy duck egg sweater on and a pair of white skinny jeans that aren't so skinny and all you are thinking is how beautiful she is and how much you want to kiss her.

_you want so badly to walk down with her so you can kiss her but you know you need a shuttle._

She looks timid for a second and slightly embarrassed that you've been staring the whole time she's had the door open but really she does look so beautiful and if you could bottle a moment in small jars and keep them on a shelf, this would be one of them. Standing in front of Brittany's villa, her hair pulled up into a top bun and her bare feet looking tanned and pretty, knowing that this beautiful girl is your girlfriend and that you might, accidentally, possibly be in love with her.

_shit._

"Britt," You smile, refraining from calling her 'baby'.

She smiles back. "Hey, gorgeous."

_fuck._

You feel her blue eyes trail all the way down you and then back up, past your bare tanned legs, over your tight black body con skirt, your tight black high neck cropped top and up to your face. She falters back down to your abs quickly before reverting back to your eyes and biting her lip.

Leaning forward, she goes to kiss your cheek but just before she pulls back, she whispers possessively in your ear, "mine," and you swear your pants fall off by themselves.

Your shuttle has waited for you, so you lead Brittany to the door and let her in first. The driver seems entirely unaware of the energy between the two of you so whilst he turns the sharp corners down to reception, you reach over and take Brittany's hand, interlocking your fingers and stroking your thumb back and fourth.

Her smile tells you she's okay with it. More than okay.

Down at reception, your dad and Ohana are waiting in the jeep to drive to the restaurant. You let Brittany climb in first whilst she says hello to your family before climbing in yourself. Ohana insists on sitting next to Brittany however, so you have to shift and let her in the back. You watch as your little sister snuggles into the side of your girlfriend's waist and under her shoulder.

_your girlfriend._

You haven't ever had a girlfriend really. Just flings and hook ups and things that last only a week.

Your dad puts his hand on your thigh and grins at you.

The restaurant is in this really cultural part of town, hidden behind a boat yard. It looks dodgy but Puck had taken everyone there at the start of the week and Ohana had adored it.

The waiters recognize you and lead you to a table with a view of the harbor. The boats clang and sway in the breeze and Brittany's sat next to you, looking so beautiful you think you might burst into tears. You can feel your eyes swelling up and your dad notices, making you blush.

You're not sure you've felt this happy since your mom died.

You were worried the whole time you were getting ready that Brittany wouldn't eat whilst she was out with you and your family but whilst your dad takes Ohana to the toilet, she leans over and whispers in your ear, "Can I just have the same as you?"

You look at her then, with her eyes full of fear and possible panic and you want to take it away because she should never have to feel like that, especially with you and your family.

"Baby," You whisper back, gripping her thigh under the table and stroking your thumb there. "Do you prefer parmesan or smoked salmon?"

She grins cheekily at you and chuckles out she prefers smoked salmon.

"I really want to kiss you right now," You tell her, looking around you. There are other people but you know you have to be careful, especially in countries you don't know well at all.

Brittany sighs next to you. "It's killing me that you can't. You look really pretty, Santana." She looks down over you again and it makes you shiver and you're sure your nipples are now erect.

"You look beautiful." You compliment her back, kissing your fingertips and placing them on her lips. She quickly pecks them and returns to studying her menu.

"It's okay if you just want a starter, Britt." You let her know, stroking her thigh again and drawing patters all the way over it. Brittany shivers. "You don't even have to eat your own meal, okay? As long as you have a mouthful of mine, I swear that's enough."

"No, no, San," She mumbles, clearly distracted by your hand. You smirk. "I really... I want to eat tonight, I do."

You turn to her and squeeze her leg. "Oh, Britt, hey, listen, you can have as much or as little as you want. I promise."

Her eyes are thankful but when it comes to ordering, you feel her tense beneath your fingers so you order the smoked salmon and a salad to share with her. She immediately relaxes and that alone makes your head feel dizzy.

"So, Brittany," Your dad starts. You glare at him with a look that spits _be nice and be reasonable._ "San tells me you come to St Lucia every year."

Brittany smiles genuinely and answers, "Yeah, my family come here a lot."

"You love it then, I assume?"

"Adore it." Brittany grins then and you swear you felt your heart fall deeper in love with her. "How are you finding it?"

"Oh," Your dad enthuses, locking his hands together and placing them on the table. "It's perfect really. Ohana loves the crabs, poor things, the other parents and I can spend all day doing whatever we want and Santana here can meet wonderful people like you and learn new things."

Brittany giggles. "I'm not sure I can teach Santana anything new but-"

"Sure you can," You interrupt, locking your eyes with hers. "You already have."

She frowns at you. You hold her gaze in the hopes she realises you'll tell her later and turn back to your dad.

"Dad, how about we tell Brittany the story of how you forgot our passports on the way out here?"

The meal comes a few minutes later and you put the plates between you and Brittany, allowing her to eat whatever she wants.

Later on, once Ohana is satisfied with her dessert and Brittany is glowing from conversation with your dad, the waiter comes over and asks if anyone will be interested in the karaoke.

"Me!" Ohana squeals, shooting her hand in the air.

"And what would you like to sing, little lady?" The waiter asks, pen ready to write her answer.

"Part Of Your World from The Little Mermaid," She answers, her fingers pulling at her lips.

"Ooo," Brittany says excitedly to Ohana, "I love that song!"

"Oh Britt-Britt, please sing it with me!"

You're not sure if Brittany is gushing from Ohana's nickname or from the thought of singing in front of everyone.

The waiter turns to you and asks if you're interested.

"You know what?" You say, standing up, "Let me go first and show 'em all how it's done."

You ask the DJ for the guitar you used the last time you were here. He hands it to you, smiling and you begin playing the chords to Taylor Swift's _Treacherous. _Making sure Brittany can see you, you wink at her and open your mouth to start singing.

_Put your lips close to mine_

_As long as they don't touch_

_Out of focus, eye to eye_

_Till the gravity's too much_

_And I'll do anything you say_

_If you say it with your hands_

_And I'd be smart to walk away,_

_But you're quicksand_

Brittany's eyes are wide and you can't tell whether it's because she's surprised you can sing and play the guitar or whether she realises you're singing this to her.

_This slope is treacherous_

_This path is reckless_

_This slope is treacherous_

_And I, I, I like it_

As you're playing the chords, you notice your dad wink at you and glance at Brittany and Ohana has her hands swaying in the air.

_I can't decide if it's a choice_

_Getting swept away_

_I hear the sound of my own voice_

_Asking you to stay_

You can see the understanding look in Brittany's blue eyes and it makes you want to cry. Like she's searching for a way to tell you that she knows - that she knows you want her to be okay.

_And all we are is skin and bone_

_Trained to get along_

_Forever going with the flow,_

_But you're friction_

Playing the guitar has always been one of your most adored passions. You've known how to play since you were four - you're pretty sure a guitar has always just been strapped to your shoulders like an extra limb. And being able to sing to someone such as Brittany is an honor you didn't realise you needed.

She's perfect. She's just fucking perfect.

_This slope is treacherous_

_This path is reckless_

_This slope is treacherous_

_And I, I, I like it_

_Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_

_And I will get you, and get you alone_

_Your name has echoed through my mind_

_And I just think you should, think you should know_

_That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would_

_Follow you, follow you home..._

_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

You smile at her and she smiles back, her hand on her collarbone like she's trying to hold herself together for a moment.

You close your eyes.

_This hope is treacherous_

_This daydream is dangerous_

_This hope is treacherous_

_I, I, I... I, I, I... I, I, I..._

You open them again, lock eyes with Brittany once more and play the chords that just come straight to you. You hope your voice sounds okay and she enjoys it.

_Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_

_And I will get you, and get you alone_

_Your name has echoed through my mind_

_And I just think you should, think you should know_

_That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will_

_Follow you, follow you home..._

_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

You smile shyly, yet sincerely at her.

_This slope is treacherous_

_I, I, I like it_

The other diners erupt in cheers and claps and the DJ nods his head in respect as you hand the guitar back to him. When you return to the table, your dad stands up and kisses your cheek, telling you it was beautiful as always. He then throws Ohana onto his shoulders and they walk towards the DJ to get ready for her song.

You turn to Brittany. She's looking at you like she's trying to work out if you're real or not.

"You really want to do this?" She surprises you by asking, her hand still on her collarbone.

You knot your eyebrows together and study her face. "More than anything, Brittany."

She nibbles her bottom lip and you want to know what's going on in her head. There's a really long pause and you feel like you're waiting for a judge to decide your fate or something.

"Yeah," Brittany finally whispers, her eyes filling. Her head is nodding slightly and her tongue comes out to lick her lips. "Yeah, I think I do too."

You smile in relief and place your hand on her thigh again. You're about to turn to watch your sister perform but Brittany's voice stops you.

"Santana, are y-" She looks away sharply and bites her lip again.

"Britt?"

She raises her eyebrows and takes a deep breath. "I mean, like, are you sure you want to... um... is this what you-" She swallows fiercely. "Ugh. Are you sure you want to be with _me_?"

She whispers the _me_ like she's diseased or something and it makes your heart break. You look around and no one's even focussed on the two of you so you lean forward quickly and kiss just under her chin and look down like you've just broken some rules.

Brittany looks around too and obviously sees nothing so she links your hands together and takes a big sigh.

"Brittany," You say, looking back up and into her eyes. "Look at me."

She does and it makes you feel instantly better.

"You're so beautiful," You tell her. Brittany giggles and you ask her why.

"It's just your accent," She grins and it makes you smile so wide that she looks happier. "It sounds funny when you say beautiful."

"Ha, okay, well maybe I won't talk anymore," You joke, turning to watch your sister.

Brittany squeezes your hand. "Maybe if you, like, chose one accent to talk in, that would make things so much clearer even though it wouldn't be nearly as funny."

She giggles and you turn to quickly swat her. She jerks away from you and it's hard to ignore the way her bones creak.

Ohana looks nervous and you watch as your dad kneels beside her. You yell out to her and she smiles worriedly back at you. Brittany settles into your side as Ohana's song starts and you feel instantly warm.

"You have a beautiful voice, Santana." She whispers and you smile into the night air.

"You have a beautiful soul, Brittany." You reply, making sure you use just the Australian part of your accent.

Brittany giggles but snuggles further into you nonetheless.

...

When you return to the resort, your dad takes Ohana up to bed and you take Brittany down to the beach. She walks with her pinky in yours and it makes your heart swell to know that she actually wants to touch you and be close to you for no other reason than just that.

Most other girls seem to just want you to touch them.

The beach seems to be fairly quiet with no one around. The kids have all gone to bed and you can't seem to see your friends anywhere. Brittany hums beside you as you step onto the sand, your pinkies swinging between you. You feel content and at ease and you wish your mom was here to see just how _simple_ you felt.

Since you've never felt so calm in all your life.

Brittany and you walk along the rocks and sit right on the end.

She's silent as she watches the waves break gently around the rocks. The stars above seem to act as diamond lampposts and the way they illuminate Brittany's face is so unusual, you wonder if they too have never seen a person so beautiful.

You know that you haven't.

"You like to stare, huh?" She whispers and for a moment you don't answer because you think she's talking to the waves but then you soon realise she's talking to you and you cough in embarrassment, your cheeks reddening under her amused smirk.

"Oh," You gush, looking the other way. "I'm sorry, you're just... You're perfect."

Her eyes seem to glow like maybe she's starting to believe you.

"Honestly, Britt," You push, smiling genuinely at her. "You are."

She turns away shaking her head and it makes your heart crumble because this isn't like all those girls who giggle at the same time as shaking their heads in mock disagreement because Brittany really doesn't. The way her eyes dim at the very mention of the way she looks and how her nose turns in on itself like she's about to burst into tears - that all tells you she doesn't see what you see. She doesn't and you think that hurts her more than anything else.

"Brittany," You whisper, finding her chin with your fingers. She turns back but doesn't look at you, so you hobble along the rocks beneath you, wishing more than anything you looked graceful, and reach forward to lift her into your arms. You balance on a couple stable rocks as you pull her legs around your waist and you just pull her in so close to you and breathe in her scent.

"Brittany," You whisper again, catching her surprised face and smiling into it. You turn to sit down where you were and make sure Brittany's comfortable around you before taking both your hands and wrapping them around her face. She looks so shocked yet so no the verge of tears that you feel almost guilty. "Can I tell you what I see when I look at you?"

Her look of shame makes you feel awful.

"Baby," You whisper, nudging her nose with yours. "Please?"

She looks away and so you pull her in even closer and clasp your hand around her head so she can rest it on your shoulder. You kiss the top of her head, just below her bun and leave your lips there for a while. Her arms wrap tightly around your waist and glide over the bare skin there.

You shiver.

She then snuffles against you, so you say, "You're like this most beautiful thing and I can't even say what, I just know that you're beautiful. I just know that I look at you and I feel this burning inside like I have to talk to you and know you and be with you and hold you and all these things I've never felt before. Looking at you feels right, Britt, I don't know..."

She grips you tighter but still doesn't look up.

"You're just perfect; it's all I can think of when I see you. There's not a part of you that I don't like. I want all of you and I want it surrounding me because you seem to be, like, magical or something. Shit, I'm sounding sappy."

She giggles then and you smile so big.

"You're wrapped around me right now and I can't even tell you how amazing it's making me feel." You whisper into her head.

She moves suddenly and looks right into your eyes. She studies your hairline, like she's working out the gradient of each swerve and then she lifts her hand to touch it, pushing her hand so delicately through it, you seem to melt into her.

Her other hand leaves your waist and comes to cup your chin. You don't move a muscle as she leans forward to press her lips to yours. And thank god because kissing Brittany is like kissing oxygen.

"It makes me feel so amazing being wrapped around you, Santana." She whispers into your lips moments later, her sweet breath tickling you in the sparkliest of ways.

You smile and the two of you don't move from where your lips rest together. You can feel Brittany breathe where your noses are touching and it makes your eyes close in contentment. Her eyes are closed as well and you sit there a while, simply breathing each other in with the waves rolling beside you and the wind flowing through your hair in time with your lungs.

It's Brittany who moves first, tightening her thighs around you making you moan. She quirks her head at you like she can't believe she just emitted that from your mouth and you raise your eyebrows because yes, yes she definitely did.

She starts shaking her head and you frown at her. She knows you're about to ask why so she simply leans forward and catches your lips again.

When she pulls back she inhales deeply and bites her lip.

"Santana," She murmurs, and the way she says it makes you feel wet almost immediately and it's all you can do not to jut your hips into her.

"If you knew what was going on in here," She taps her head and looks away in disgust before looking back at you, "You would not be holding me like this."

Your inhalation must be sharp because she looks startled and so you hastily pull her closer and push your lips against hers because you don't know what else to do.

"Brittany," You whisper, "I've seen my mum die with her hand in mine and I've seen a fully grown man crumble in the arms of a four-year-old, I absolutely promise you that however terrible your mind is, it will not make me want to hold you any less."

She grimaces and you think it's because she hates how broken she's sounding.

"Be vulnerable with me," You tell her. "I need you,"

She frowns then and something like recognition flickers across her eyes.

"You are making me feel things again, Santana." She admits, fear traipsing every bone in her body, like she's warning you. "I forgot how to feel before and since being here, all I have done is felt and I don't know how to handle that without being thankful."

Her words seem to contradict themselves so you ask, "How do you mean, baby?"

She seems to soften at the endearment.

"Before," She starts, biting her lip and playing with a strand of your hair, "Before I, um, went to hospital, I think it had been, like, two years, I don't really know actually... But I felt really bland and bored and tired and weird things, like I was trying really hard not to wait for something big to happen 'cause I think I'd been expecting that or something, I don't know..." She places her palm on your breast bone and inhales. "I just, for the longest time, haven't been able to feel anything but nothing and it's scary, you know? Like everything just gets sucked out of you and if you feel anything at all, it's anger and that's always temporary."

You close your eyes because she seems to be voicing everything you could ever want to say.

"And I don't even know why this happened or why I felt nothing, I just did, like I was constantly disappointed with everything that happened and nothing was ever good enough and it just made me feel so horrible about myself and I guess, since then, I haven't been able to get away from that." She looks into your eyes and looks away like it was a dare she had to do.

"Santana, I'm just so empty and it's scary, that's all."

Your heart breaks and you feel a sob choke out before you can stop it and really, you're not sure what you're crying at because you don't think it's Brittany and you don't think it's you. Really, you're completely taken aback at where the sob even came from.

Brittany notices though and she seems to get it.

She looks right into your tear-brimmed eyes and says, "You've felt it too, Santana, I know you have." She wipes away a tear and you seem to start to shake involuntarily, making Brittany pull you into herself. Her arms cling around your neck and her hands push at the back of your head. You're really crying now and all that's going round in your head is Brittany and how she seems to be exactly what you need and exactly what you've been searching for all this time and how she's telling you these things that seem to be rising from your own heart and how that confuses you more than anything else ever has.

Her arms are rocking you now and whilst the breeze settles around the two of you, your breathing calms down and she leans back to take a look at your face.

All you are thinking is how _you _were meant to be the one comforting _her. _

She wipes your face like she's done it to her own a thousand times and leans down to kiss your lips. You kiss her back and ironically, your breath returns.

You want to tell her that you're in love with her because now, more than ever, you are absolutely certain. But she kisses you again and once more, it pauses all your thoughts.

Her tongue is warm against your own - like a bow to a violin, making your lips quiver and your pants get even more wet than they were before. You hate how emotional your body is right now.

You feel Brittany's hand slide down to your breast and whether it was an accident or on purpose, you're not sure, but a burning butterfly heat rolls in your lower belly and your hairs stick on end almost in excited anticipation and not once have you ever felt this way with a girl before.

She ducks her head to your neck then kisses you over your black cropped top and giggles.

"Britt, what?" You whisper, giggling back.

She nibbles the top over your breast and you moan again. "Your top's too tight."

You cough for what seems like the millionth time that night. The ache in your lady parts gets even worse and your breath hitches. "Wait, what?"

"I wanna take it off," Brittany smirks, dancing her fingers around your waistline. "But not here."

You want to tell her she can do it here but if you could move your lips right now, that would be a miracle in itself.

"I don't know what I'm doing, gorgeous," She whispers hotly into your ear, making you bite your lip. "All I know is that I've never been like this in my life and you're making me feel all these things and feeling things feels good and if kissing you feels this amazing, I want to kiss you everywhere."

You whine into the summer breeze and she giggles as she pushes her hips into your lower belly, hard.

"_Fuck, Brittany_."

She licks her way all along your collarbone and sinks her teeth into it when you groan her name again and you clasp your hands behind her back and push her further into you. She groans back and the two of you smile into each other's skin.

When she stops kissing your neck, she looks dead into your eyes and whispers, "Thank you," and it's all you can do not to come on the spot.

"Baby," You whisper again and again and again, "You are an angel and you are so much more than okay, I promise you that."

She kisses you deeply then, warm and elegant and grateful and when you kiss her back, you tell her she's fucking beautiful, grasping the back of her neck like she's going to vanish any second.

She turns to look once again at you and what she says next makes your body quiver so much, you think you'll need carrying.

"Take me to your room."


	10. Falling

**Sexy ratings for sexy times ;) I think you need to listen to Falling by Tyler Ward at the end of this chapter. Or during. Whenever really. **

**Dankie for my long time reviewers. I also didn't realise I could see how many people have read this/viewed this? So that was a nice surprise.**

**Enjoy ya little cupcakes.**

**I own no characters.**

**The Ninth Day**

Santana was still sleeping when the sun pushed my eyelids open. She looked like an angel with her bottom half wrapped up in messy white sheets and her hair splayed like handprints all over her face and her pillow. She was still wearing her clothes from last night and it took everything in my power not to remove them for her.

(but the first time I see her naked, I want her to be awake so she can see the way my eyes will undoubtedly widen at how fucking beautiful she is.)

I glanced down at my own clothes and wondered how I didn't get boiling throughout the night. The part of Santana's back that was on show seemed to be glistening with a sheet of sweat and I surprised myself by leaning forward to kiss her there.

If anyone had seen that, they'd think I was the weirdest person in the world.

She stirred slightly but it wasn't enough to wake her up. So I watched her some more and thanked my stars that she was the most patient person I had ever come across.

After falling on her bed last night, there was nothing the two of us could do except just stare at each other. And that had never happened to me before. And when we'd kissed so slowly before we'd accidentally fallen asleep, I couldn't even begin to describe the way she made me feel like I was okay again. Even though, nearly half of the time, I was expecting her to just vanish because I was feeling these things and I was feeling them with a girl and kissing Santana was like kissing my heart right in the damn middle.

It was terrifying but electrifying and all at the same time.

"Brittany?"

The sound of Santana's dad at the doorway made me jump halfway down the bed. He seemed to find it hilarious. Santana didn't stir.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," He apologized, poking his head further round the door, "Since San is still asleep, do you fancy grabbing breakfast with me?"

My heart started beating so fast I swear if was just about to jump out of my chest.

"Don't worry," He quickly reassured, smiling like a father should, "Maybe we can just go for a morning stroll instead?"

I appreciated his concern but I was more anxious about why he wanted to spend time with me and what he wanted to talk about. And why he was going to leave Santana here.

He seemed to recognize my worries and slipped a note out his pocket telling me to place it on my pillow for Santana to see when she woke up. I didn't even think about my clothes and my hair then when I followed her dad out the room and down the stairs towards the beach and the pier but I was sure I'd never looked so rough.

The morning was calm, a lot like how I'd felt when I woke up this morning. It made me even more anxious that I was going to have a coughing fit or something which in itself made my throat start tickling and my eyes start watering. I choked it back and tried to concentrate on the way the waves looked rolling calmly onto the rocks where Santana and I had sat the evening before.

And that made me think of how I'd wanted to touch Santana's boobs and how I still really wanted to touch them and see her naked and kiss her all down her body and fuck, I'm with her dad, _shit._

"Please don't be scared, Brittany," Her dad spoke softly in the morning breeze.

I breathed deeply and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had escaped the bun I'd slept in last night.

"I simply wanted to introduce myself properly."

I kind of breathed a sigh of relief but I was still certain that wasn't all he was going to say.

"So," He continued, pausing and holding out his hand, "Paulo Lopez, Santana's dad; my daughter seems to have taken quite a liking to you."

I blushed under his amused gaze and he chuckled as we walked towards the beach.

"Yeah," I whispered, smiling slightly, before realising I hadn't introduced myself back. "Oh, I'm Brittany Pierce."

He chuckled again and waved jokingly. He stuck his hands in his pockets and squinted his eyes from the morning sun. I kept a steady look on the sand as we stepped onto it and squirmed at the way it felt against my dry toes.

"Santana really likes you, Brittany." He told me again and the butterflies erupted from my belly.

"I really like her too." I replied, shocking myself.

He grinned. "I can tell."

I smiled.

"I've never really seen my daughter like this, though." He seemed to add as an afterthought.

I remained silent.

We walked a little further until we reached the headland where there were a couple stray sun beds. Paulo pushed them together and told me to sit down on one. He sat down on the other.

"I don't really know what I wanted to tell you, Brittany, in all honesty." He admitted, wringing his hands together and looking into the horizon. The birds above us in the overhanging palm trees tweeted effortlessly into the air as the morning catamaran cruise sailed past us in towards the bay to load the day's passengers. It was perfectly tranquil and it reminded me of why I loved this place so much. I hoped Santana and her family loved it just the same.

I waited for him to continue since I was't really sure what he wanted me to say to that.

"This always seems so much easier in the movies, huh?" He chuckled and I chuckled too. "I don't want to be that dad who warns his girlfriend's boyfriend about hurting her because one, you're not a boyfriend and two, I don't seem to worry about you doing that so much and I don't really know why. And I'm not worried about Santana hurting you, which is a miracle, since that's what she's known for back in New York."

I turned sharply to him, surprised that he was telling me this, surprised that he knew and surprised that he was talking about the same Santana who bandaged my wrists yesterday, sang a love song to me and made me feel alive again.

"Santana hurts people?"

Paulo looked to me then smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, she has trouble expressing her feelings."

I frowned at him. "I feel like we're talking about a totally different girl here."

He smiled then and that confused me. "And that makes me the happiest man alive."

We watched the sun rise a little higher and I made a note of how it glinted through the palm trees and looked the way Santana's eyes look when she kisses me. I wanted to bring her back here.

"All I want to tell you, Brittany, is that I could not be more thankful to you for the way you've brought Santana back to me."

I must have gasped because he turned quickly to me and frowned.

"Gosh, Santana was so lost before we came here." His voice cracked and I felt the strongest urge to place my hand on his leg. "You know, Maribel was my everything, she really was. I felt the way a dessert does when it rains every time I looked at her. She was perfect to me; she had these long dark locks that just hung round her face like she was the most precious painting in the world." He paused and bit his lip, looking at the ocean with a nostalgic smile at the corner of his lips.

I kept quiet.

"Maribel had a sense of humor none of us seemed to get except for Santana. And from the moment she was born, she looked the spitting image of her. My daughter is literally my wife in a skinnier, yet slightly taller form. And sometimes I look at her and then I have to turn away and when Maribel died, it was just so bad because I couldn't even bring myself to be in the same room as Santana."

My eyes closed on their own and my own father's face entered my head. I didn't really look like him and I didn't really look like my mother so I could only imagine what that must have been like for Santana's dad.

"Santana, she has this sharpness that Maribel had. If they didn't like something or someone, they'd make it very well known, you know, they both have this brilliant quick-witted tongue and even now, when Santana occasionally comes out with something, I can't help but nearly wet myself and for a grown man, that's entirely embarrassing, as you can imagine!"

I giggled because I could totally imagine the scene in my head. "I would have loved to have met your wife."

He looked at me then and smiled with so much gratitude, I wanted to curl in on myself.

"She would have adored you." He nodded, patting my knee. "She always told Santana she was worthy of love because she never believed she was and I truly believe you have changed her mind on that."

A whirl of pride clung itself to my heart and I knew it would be there for the rest of my life.

"What you've done with these families," I said, motioning back to the resort, "is astonishing. If my father had half the guts you do, I can only imagine how proud I'd feel."

He laughed at that before shaking his head amusingly, "Oh Santana hasn't always been the easiest with this arrangement." He leant on his knees and sighed again. "She literally went quiet from the moment Maribel passed away and if she ever spoke, it was to read Ohana a bed time story or it was to yell at me. Up until about the last two months, Santana did nothing but yell and sometimes it would just be with her eyes, you know? Or her body language."

I swallowed.

"And it's the most awful feeling not knowing how to help your child. I mean, she was seventeen, you'd think maybe she was old enough to know how to explain what she was feeling, but she was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen her."

There was that word again. Santana had used it last night and it had scared me slightly because being vulnerable in front of Santana was like being vulnerable in front of a fire.

Paulo smiled sadly at me. "The kids here are amazing. Most of them are all stupidly talented and in all our vacations, they keep themselves going with these songs they sing. Each year, Santana has got better and about two months ago, she found a letter I had sent to Maribel, I'm not sure which one and she just fell into my arms and cried more than I've ever seen anyone cry." His eyes filled and I wondered why he'd chosen to tell me all of this. I barely knew him and I felt completely unworthy of his story and his strength.

"But Brittany, she's coming back to the room each night with a light in her eyes I thought had gone and more and more, every single day, she looks like my wife again and I can't begin to explain to you the joy it brings to me each time I see it." He pats my knee and shakes it a little. "And I am wholly convinced it is all down to you, so thank you."

There wasn't a part of me that knew what to say or do here, so I smiled thinly, squinted my eyes and stared directly at the horizon. Because if I could explain to Paulo that I had Santana to thank for the way I was feeling as well, I would. But this was his moment and I was honored to share it with him.

We walked silently back to the resort and from the smell surrounding the air, I realised they must have been having the buffet around the pool. The smell made my skin prickle with panic and I tried desperately hard to push it down with swallows and and deep breaths as we got closer and then when I felt my father accidentally back into me, his hands holding a plateful of food, the panic rose so high I thought I was about to vomit.

My brother seemed to appear from no where, scolding my dad and pulling him off me.

"Father, Britt's standing right there,"

My father turned around then, ketchup from his plate flying across his pale yellow long sleeved shirt that looked far to small and far too smart for a breakfast buffet. He huffed at it and muttered something along the lines of, "typical."

My brother smiled sheepishly at me.

Looking up at me, my father grimaced. He turned to my brother and said, "How could I have known she was there, she's so small I'd never have seen her."

I felt my stomach drop and the urge to vomit increased.

My brother did nothing but smile weakly at him.

"I'm off to eat with your mother," My father muttered, scowl imprinted on his face, "Maybe you should try it, Brittany."

I watched as my brother scurried after him, not before turning around and telling me to get the shuttle back to the fucking villa.

_Fuck you_, was the only thing going around in my head.

And because I'd been trying to stop vomiting, I had completely forgotten Paulo was standing right next to me, a bewildered yet entirely empathetic look on his face.

He looked around quickly, as if searching for my father and then he turned back to me, placed his hand protectively around my shoulder and began walking back to the room.

"How about breakfast in bed with Santana?"

I'd never wanted to hug a man so much in my life.

...

Santana was arguing with her dad whilst I sat in her bed, oranges and bananas splayed around me. Ohana was slouched next to me and had asked me to peel her an orange since she couldn't do it herself. I didn't want to listen to their argument but it was impossible to ignore Santana repeating , "you had no right to do that," and her dad replying, "this is not the right time, mija."

Ohana snuggled further into me and mumbled something I couldn't quite get.

"What was that, sweetie?" I asked, tapping her nose with a bit of the peel. She giggled.

"They're arguing again." Was what she'd whispered.

I stilled. "Again?"

"Yes," Ohana said matter-of-factly. "They used to do it all the time."

I sighed and bit my lip. Placing Ohana's orange by my side, I turned to her and lay on my side, instructing her to do the same. She did.

"Sometimes, when I want to block out something horrible in real life, I lay down like this on my bed or the floor, or wherever I am, and I put my hands on my ears like this," I put one of her hands on each side of her face, "and I close my eyes tight and think of my favourite colour and my favourite place and my favourite song until all I can hear and see and feel is that."

I opened my eyes after demonstrating and watched Ohana as she did the same. She looked super cute and if I had my phone, I would have taken a picture.

She began humming that song from The Little Mermaid again and it made me smile. So I pulled her closer to me and let her curl into my chest. I kissed her forehead and joined in her humming and it was only when we'd nearly finished the song that I realised Santana was standing at the door way.

I mouthed for her to come over.

She slipped behind Ohana and we sandwiched her in the middle of Santana's bed. She giggled and when Santana started blowing raspberries along her back, she giggled even more.

Paulo's head popped around the door way and I looked at him apologetically. I didn't mean to cause an argument. He shook his head at me and winked a thank you, before turning and closing the door behind him.

When Ohana's giggling had subsided, she jumped up suddenly and fell back onto me. I felt my hipbones jut into her and grimaced at how they cracked. She seemed unfazed however and leant down to kiss my nose. Santana leant over and did the same. And then she kissed my lips. Ohana gasped.

"I knew it!" She squealed jumping up and punching the air. "Rachel!" She screamed, climbing off the bed. "Rachel, you owe me a dollar!"

Santana gasped out a huge "Ha!" before rolling on top of me and burying her face into my neck.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine," She mumbled, peppering kisses all the way up to my face and then all over that too.

I started giggling. "Santana,"

"What?" She giggled back, "I missed you."

I smiled. "I'd only been gone an hour, if that."

"I missed you the moment we fell asleep." She said, pulling her head up and looking into my eyes.

"You're such a sap." I laughed, throwing my arms around her neck.

"And you are such a good kisser," She replied, pressing her lips to mine before I could answer back.

I seemed to melt into her mouth then and if there was anything in this world I thought I could now possibly not live without, it was Santana's kisses.

I'd never moaned so much in my life.

She bit my lip then so I bit hers back before sucking her tongue into my mouth and releasing it with a gentle pop.

"_Such_ a good kisser." She murmured, her eyes still closed.

"Oh, you're wearing glasses." I commented, only just noticing them. "And you're wearing nothing but a shirt and panties, merry fucking christmas to me."

Santana burst out another "ha!" and it made me giggle.

"What?" I asked.

"You make me laugh when you swear."

"That was very English."

"Oh fuck off," She giggled, swatting my face. "Get used to my accent, it's gonna be around forever."

And that made my heart jump. Because I wanted to hear it forever and longer if I could.

"Already used to it,"

She kissed me again then and spending the morning kissing Santana sounded perfect but Rachel waltzed into the room without knocking, with Ohana at her heels and the idea went straight out the window.

"See!" Ohana squeaked, clasping her hands together, "They kiss on the lipsies!"

"Rachel!" Santana barked, lifting up and making my shoulders crack. She noticed instantly and turned around to apologize, panic in her eyes. I bopped her nose and turned to Ohana.

"Britt-Britt is Santana's princess, Rachel, I told you so!" She said, clinging to Rachel's leg. The brunette beamed.

"Santana, you and Brittany are perfect for each other, I am so proud of you." She said.

Santana frowned. "Berry, go back to your room and only come back in to tell me something I don't already know."

Rachel beamed again and scurried back out.

I giggled.

Ohana giggled too.

"Oh!" Rachel said, walking back in, "Quinn's driving us to some stable she's found on the other side of the island. We're going horseback riding!"

"Fuck," Santana said, in her English accent.

I giggled.

She held her finger up at my lips. "Don't even go there."

She shut up when I pulled her finger into my mouth and sucked it right to the top.

...

Quinn was a calm driver. Sitting in the back of the jeep with Santana's hand in mine and Rachel riding shotgun with her arms in the air felt easy, effortless, completely wonderful. I'd never felt this kind of contentment before and with the sun peaking through the ribbons of Santana's hair, turning it slightly bronze and the wind making her eyelashes flutter so beautifully, I knew I was falling in love.

In fact, I think I already had.

And then Quinn turned the music up and The 1975 were playing and Santana seemed to leap out her skin with excitement. I was giggling so hard when she sat up on her knees on the back seat and flew her hands in the air, yelling the lyrics. Rachel was giggling too and when it reached the chorus, she joined in with Santana, flailing her arms about in the front, letting the wind rip through her fingers.

Quinn looked over and smiled at me and I felt so elated I could have died.

My hand was suddenly encased then by Santana's and as Quinn gently turned a corner, she still fell right on top of me, her hands either side of my face and her butt hovering in the air above us.

"Hey," She mouthed.

I giggled.

She began mouthing the lyrics right by my lips and it was all I could do not to reach up and catch mine with hers. I started laughing even more because Santana had his accent down to a T.

I kissed her just before Quinn turned into the stables and marveled in the way Santana seemed to flush from the top of her forehead down to her chest. She smiled at me before heaving herself up and out of the jeep once we'd parked. I quickly followed her, eager to remain by her side.

I'd had to borrow one of Santana's long sleeved t-shirts and for once, wearing someone else's clothes didn't bother me because they smelt of coconuts and coffee and it was staining my skin so fucking beautifully.

"Hey, guys, I'm just going for a piss." Santana said bouncily. She held out her hand for me and Rachel tutted.

"TMI, Santana," said Quinn.

"You guys aren't going to be able to go anywhere without one another, are you?" Said Rachel.

We left the two of them introducing themselves to the riding instructor as we skipped across to the toilets signposted by the office area. The door was creaky as we opened it and for some reason it made me laugh because it reminded me of a scary movie I'd once watched and how if I watched one with Santana, I wouldn't have panic attacks and insomnia for the next two weeks after.

There was only one cubicle and it was so dirty I nearly gagged but Santana slammed the door shut, locked it with one quick swipe of her fingers and had me pinned against the wood in the space of several seconds.

"San," I managed to gasp out as she lifted my legs around her and pressed her lips to my neck.

She sucked my skin so hard, I was sure a mark would already be entirely visible.

(It scared me that I was looking forward to her friends asking me about it later.)

And then she kissed me and I realised this was going to be a thing with her, sneaking off and kissing like this because once her tongue touched mine, I realised how much I'd been starving for her the whole morning.

She must have felt it too.

"Sorry," She whispered heavily, her breathing hard and her glasses twisted on her face. I reached round from her neck and straightened them for her. "You just... You look beautiful this morning."

I felt my heart warm and my chest expand. "Santana,"

She smiled at me and reached up to stroke her thumb under my left eye. "I don't know how I got so lucky on this trip but thank guacamole and tacos that I did because had I not met you, I'm pretty sure I would have died of a thirst I didn't even know needed quenching."

I felt really bad but I couldn't help but laugh. "You're quite the poet when you're crushing on someone, Santana."

She smiled but she seemed to look at a battle with herself. I wanted to reach forward and tell her I loved her but right now, in a dingy, dark and incredibly dusty stable toilet was not the right time.

"I just think you're perfect, Brittany." She whispered, kissing me again. "This is me being insecure but you could so easily be with a guy, I mean there's so many attractive people on this fucking island, yet here you are with me, a girl, and that makes no sense but god, is my heart happy."

"Seriously," I giggled, pressing my finger to her beautiful lips, "Stop."

She smiled against my finger.

"I want you, Santana." I told her, humming slightly when she kissed my finger. "Even if by some weird miracle, there was some guy on this island who I liked, I would always like you more. And sure, I don't know what's going on or how this even happened but all I know is kissing you makes me feel alive and I know it does you, as well." I smiled at her. "And we've been peeing for quite a while now so we should get back."

Santana laughed at that as she put me down and unlocked the door.

...

"Quinn, this was a terrible idea!" Rachel squealed as her pony took its first step onto the beach.

"Rachel," Quinn breathed, clearly exasperated, "You were bugging me about this all week. If you didn't want to come, you should have said before I made reservations last night."

Rachel huffed and then squealed again as her pony sunk deeper into the sand.

"Berry," Santana snapped, kicking her horse to walk along side Rachel's. "Pull yourself the fuck together, you are on a horse, on the beach in the fucking Caribbean with three of the most beautiful, sexy girls in the world. Most people would kill to be in your situation, get your shit together."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm not a lesbian, Santana, for the thousandth time."

"Shame," Santana muttered, moving back to walk next to me, "That's a waste of some fine nose game."

Rachel shot round to shoot daggers at Santana but her horse jerked at her sharp movement, pulling her down onto its neck so her face went smacking into it. Santana snorted in surprise, Quinn seemed half concerned, half amused and I simply said, "Fuck."

The instructor jumped off his horse and came over to see if there was any damage. Rachel's nose was red but he promised her it wasn't bleeding or broken.

"I'm so sorry," Santana giggled, not really sounding sorry. "I guess I jinxed you."

Rachel sent her evils. "I'm going to take what you said about my nose as a compliment and I'm going to think that my horse thought it was so beautiful, he wanted to kiss it."

"More like reshape it." Santana murmured under her breath, a smirk still on her face. I slapped her arm and she looked at me like I'd just snapped her heart in half.

_Be nice,_ I mouthed.

She pouted, so I reached across and took her hand. She stopped pouting.

The instructor led us right to the sea front where he helped us remove all the horses' tack. We hung it up on the palm trees and he told us to wash them down we could take them in the ocean. Quinn seemed super excited about this and was in her bikini before the instructor could tell us what to do.

Rachel hopped on the same pony as Quinn, clinging to her back in fear, and together they walked into the blue water, Quinn doing her little screaming laugh when the water splashed right up the two of them and the pony got deep enough to swim.

I was obviously smiling because Santana slipped her arm around my waist protectively and asked if I wanted to join her on her horse. I stilled slightly because I hadn't worn a bikini but Santana said she'd keep her clothes on with me.

(I could not want this girl more.)

And then I had her arms around my waist and my hands holding the reins of a chestnut pony and my feet tickling the splashes of the ocean and if there was a way to hold back my smiling laughter, I wasn't going to look for it.

We swam quite deep and when I leant forward to rub the pony's neck and it turned back and nickered at me, I felt Santana lift her hands underneath my t-shirt and slip them slightly into the front of my jeans and although it was entirely innocent, the burning I felt down my center was unbelievable. She felt me shiver beneath her touch and so as the pony turned back around to the shore, I reached back with my spare hand and took her other hand within it and I knew that we both knew what we both wanted.

Her hand didn't move until we got back to the beach and even then, when she pulled it out before jumping off, she traced her finger so far down my jeans, into my panties, that I'm sure she scraped where I'd only just shaved the night before.

I may as well have been set on fire because from that moment on, the dynamics of what we were doing on this vacation completely changed and I never looked at Santana again without wanting her to touch me like that.

They served a BBQ after the swim and whilst Santana went to apologize to Rachel, Quinn led me to the table with paper plates in our hands.

"There's salad, Britt, if you don't want the meat." She said, lifting a sausage onto her plate.

I smiled and not because she'd offered me the salad but because she'd called me Britt.

"Thanks, Quinn." I said, finding the grated carrot. I looked at the burning chops and the burgers and although I didn't want anything from it, I was actually really hungry and I really did want to eat. So I took another spoonful of carrot, a couple more leaves of lettuce and a whole slice of watermelon.

"Did you enjoy that?" Quinn asked, as we walked back to the towels and sat down.

I could only think of Santana's hand and how I'd really wanted her to go lower.

"Yeah, it was awesome." I replied, biting into my watermelon. "Did you?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Gosh, yes, I've been wanting to do that for so long."

I laughed.

Quinn took a bite of her sausage. She looked really pretty in the afternoon sun and it made me wonder if I'd always meant to find girl's more attractive than guys or whether I'd just stumbled across a really beautiful group of people.

"I feel," Quinn said, swallowing her mouthful, "That since Santana has no friends back home, that I should do the honorary best friend speech with you."

My heart dropped and I frowned at her. She caught it and giggled.

"Don't worry," She said, placing her hand on my knee and rubbing it. "I'm just gonna do what they do in the movies and say if you ever hurt my girl, I will kill you."

I widened my eyes, raised my eyebrows and tried really hard to figure out if she was telling the truth. She said it so smoothly and so nicely with a smile on her face that she almost looked like an angelic serial killer.

"Um, I won't." I mumbled, stuffing more watermelon in my mouth.

Quinn laughed again. "I don't really mean that. I mean, if you hurt her, I won't be impressed but if anyone's going to hurt, it'll be Santana doing the hurting."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I asked, wiping my mouth.

Quinn turned to look at me inquisitively. She bit her lip. Before she answered, she turned to look at Santana trying to waft away the smoke from the BBQ from Rachel's face. I smiled.

"Santana has trouble expressing her feelings." Quinn settled for.

I felt my stomach drop again. "And that. Her dad said that to me too."

Quinn turned back to me. "I think she had a really rough time after her mom died. I don't think she let her dad grieve properly because her pain was accidentally too demanding."

I thought about Quinn's words and wondered if all pain is demanding on everyone else.

"I mean, christ, the woman died right in front of her." Quinn said, shaking her head as if she too felt Santana's pain. I guess she did in some way. "The year my sister died, I got pregnant."

I coughed on my watermelon. Quinn giggled.

"Is it so hard to believe?" She smirked, pointing at her belly. "I have abs. Used to."

A grin formed on my face and I managed to splutter out, "You look good, Quinn."

She smiled her thanks before her face turned sober again. "Yeah, I was a little shit for my parents after losing a kid, they gained another one. Sort of."

I laughed at her logic.

"No, honestly, they were amazing. I think had my sister still been alive, they might have chucked me out or something, but once they realised I wasn't going to keep her, they kind of chilled out about it." She looked sad for a second and I slipped my arm to her back.

"Where is she now?" I asked. "Your baby?"

She bit her lip and looked to be fighting back tears. I rubbed her back harder.

"I was pregnant when we all went on vacation the first time. We went on safari and Rachel was the most helpful, amazing person whilst we were away. But god, she was this annoying little brat with knee high socks and a squawky voice and Santana couldn't stand her." She smiled at a memory. "We'd only known each other for about a week when we were all sat around a fire. Our parents had all gone to bed and at this point, there were quite a few other kids with us but Rachel, Puck and Santana, they just seemed to stand out to me. As did blessed Kurt and Sam. And Puck was talking to me about how I'd got pregnant and suddenly he said, 'I want to be there when your baby's born,' and Rachel agreed and then I guess Santana sort of did too. In her own quiet way."

I smiled so wide, I thought my cheeks were going to fall off. Quinn's cheeks pinked and she smiled too and the laughter coming from Santana and Rachel behind us made her smile even more.

"So we get home and we all miss each other so much." She continued, looking out to sea. "We'd got so close during the two week vacation and being without them was like removing a piece that finally fit. Then I went into labour and I live in Georgia, so getting Puck from Charlotte and Rachel and Santana from New York in time was nearly impossible but lucky for Puck, my labour was over five hours and Beth popped out just as he walked through the door."

I gasped and smiled. "The dude's a hero. What about San and Rachel?"

Quinn grinned reminiscently. "They turned up soon after. And as we were all cuddling her, Rachel tells me her mom wants to adopt and even though I'd never met the woman, knowing she was a part of Rachel meant there was no question. So she's now Beth Corcoran and she lives in New York, so I visit her when I visit Rach and San."

Quinn had a huge story to tell and in this moment, I'd never felt luckier to be a part of it.

"You're a beautiful person, Quinn." I told her, squeezing her arm.

"As are you, Brittany." She replied, smiling back. She motioned behind her and added, "This one definitely seems to think so."

I grinned at the mention of Santana. "Yeah, she's perfect."

Quinn chuckled. "Maybe."

I inhaled deeply. "What about you and Puck then? Are you guys together or...?"

Quinn snorted and sipped her water. "I love Puck to death but the guy wouldn't know a relationship if it slapped him in his balls."

I laughed at that and felt Santana turn to look at me from behind. I turned around and caught her eyes and she winked at me. Blushing, I grinned and Santana grinned right back.

"Maybe you should give it a go," I said to Quinn, turning back round to her.

"What do you mean?" She asked, finishing her salad and wiping her hands daintily on her legs.

"Well, maybe Puck does love you, he just has a different way of showing it."

She frowned at me like she was studying something and using my face as a projector. "But being _in _love with someone is entirely different to just loving them. Puck loves me. He'll put his arms around me and hug me good morning. He'll make me breakfast and we'll go on runs together. But he would never look at me and want to kiss me under the moon on an empty beach. He wouldn't take my hand in the car whilst we drive to MacDonald's at midnight and he definitely wouldn't want to sleep with me, when I've already pushed a baby out my massively gaping vagina."

We both giggled then as I said, "It was all so romantic until the very end,"

Quinn shook her head and rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Story of my life."

I hummed my amusement and gave her my best serious face. "Have you ever tried any of those things with Puck?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was crazy. "God no, the rejection would be terrible."

"See!" I squealed, splashing both of us with my watermelon. I apologized and wiped it off her arm. "You _do _love him, Quinn, so maybe you should just lay it all out there and... and be vulnerable."

She looked at me then through her hazel eyes and I swear she was telling me just the same thing, it was almost chilling. And if there was one word to describe Quinn it would be haunting because there's a moment when her eyes change from hazel to grey and her lip quivers and she looks like she's about to drown in something that isn't her own pain and every time I see it happen, I am convinced she feels her friend's pain more than she feels her own.

And I've never seen a loyalty like it. Especially when she looks just like your average cheerleading mean girl who tries to be too perfect.

Quinn wasn't perfect. Quinn was flawless.

"There should be more people like you in this world, Brittany." She surprised me by saying because I was about to say it to her. "It's like you see things from a completely different angle but that angle makes total sense." She shrugged. "You're refreshing."

I smiled because Santana had said that too.

"You guys are so different from everyone I know back home." I told her, scooping some carrot onto my fork. "You're all kind of real and open and the kind of people I really needed, I guess."

Quinn smiled. "I'm glad you met Santana."

"Me too."

"How do you fancy joining all the families for dinner tonight on the beach?" She asked, the wind blowing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sure Santana will ask you as well but I thought I might as well. It will be really fun, the resort have got a band playing and Santana loves playing the piano and the guitar as you probably already know, so you can join us in listening to her sing."

Nodding my head, I grinned and told Quinn I would be there. I wanted nothing more than to spend an evening surrounded by these people.

...

Arriving back to a quiet house was nothing new to me but arriving back to my father, my mother, my granny, my sister and my brother all waiting in the kitchen for me was definitely new. This never happened back home and it had never happened before any of this even started. So seeing them all waiting there in this deathly eerie silence made my heart shoot out my chest.

My father was the first to speak.

"Brittany, where have you been?"

It was cold. Sharp. So incredibly bitter. I held myself back from asking why he cared so much.

"Out." I replied, still really confused. "I was with my friends."

"Friends?" My mother suddenly said, mockingly. She flicked her short blonde hair behind her shoulder and tutted. "Brittany, these people aren't your friends. They are reckless, daring, nasty teenagers who want nothing more than to-"

"Karen!" My granny cut her off. For once, I looked at her with gratitude.

My mother shook her head and sucked on her teeth.

"Brittany," My father continued, "You are to go get changed into one of your best dresses because we have dinner tonight with Mr Gonzalez and you are not to make us late."

I panicked. My heart flew to the floor, my wrists ached and ached and my hands clammed up. "Father, no, I have dinner with everyone tonight, I can't go with you."

"Oh, Brittany, it wasn't a question." He simply said, turning to pour himself a drink. "Now go get changed."

There was no way I was having dinner with the manager, he knew us, he knew me, he didn't need to see me again when I could be spending time with people who didn't have to pretend to like me.

"No, I don't want to go to dinner with you all tonight." I said, ignoring how my voice was breaking.

"Britt," My brother warned, "We haven't seen you this whole vacation, we'd appreciate it if you joined us for dinner."

"Yeah," My sister piped in, rolling her eyes sarcastically, "Tommy doesn't even realise I have a sister, she spends so little time with us."

I shot her evils. "But none of you notice!" I breathe, the panic in my chest refusing to go. I didn't want to think of how I was getting more anxious and more worked up by the second so I tried to focus on Santana's face and pretend her hand was in mine but it only made it worse and if I didn't scream soon, I was sure I would completely erupt. "You have never cared where I've been ever in your life and suddenly you've decided to care when I've _finally _found people I love and want to spend time with!"

I knew I wasn't making any sense but I was so upset and so angry that trying to form proper sentences about how I feel wasn't going to be possible.

"Brittany, how dare you." My mother said, lowly, her eyes turning serious. "We have done nothing but care for you and look after you, especially in these last three years when you've just been dreadful and completely selfish and here you are again being delightfully selfish, well how about tonight, you learn how to be part of a family and think of other people first."

My mouth dropped to the ground. "Where is this coming from?" I almost wailed. "I have tried _so hard _to keep my problems away from you all because I don't want to be a hindrance since I know that we are all too aware I am completely different from you all! You don't care at all about me, you never have, I have always just been the extra on the side and I've always had to do things for myself. When have you ever shown me you care?"

"Have you seen the house that we live in?" My mother yelled. "Have you seen the clothes we dress you in? Have you seen the bedroom you sleep in? Have you not stopped to think of the cars we drive and the school we've sent you to and the endless amounts of money we've spent to try and get you to go to a good college and then you don't even go? Brittany, you have no idea what your father and I have done for you."

I felt my blood boil because whilst I was aware I lived a privileged life, I was also completely _too _aware of it and it made me uncomfortable because it was all my family thought was needed to make someone happy.

"I don't care about any of those things!" I screamed, wondering whether I was crossing a line. "I would rather be homeless, naked, uneducated and without a job if it meant that I was fucking happy!"

There was silence then and I knew I shouldn't have sworn but it just came out and I couldn't have stopped it. I was so mad and upset.

My father put his drink down to look at me, my sister looked at my granny in mutual disgust and my brother was looking frantically around the room as if he didn't want to be there.

My mother raised her eyebrow at me. "See what your 'friends' have done to you?"

There was silence for a while and whilst there were so many things I wanted to tell my parents in this moment, none of them were coming out my mouth. I felt like Harry Potter when he's in that room trying to find the right key as they all swirl around him. There were too many things to say and not enough space to say them.

"This man, Brittany," My father cocked his fat head at me. "Mr Paulo Lopez."

My heart literally sank.

"He runs a bakery in New York."

I gulped. Where was this going?

My father swirled his drink around and continued. "He tells me he lives with his two daughters in Brooklyn and they 'get by' just fine."

He shook his head in disgust as my mother snorted. "A bakery? Well, I'm not surprised his wife left him."

All I could see was red. I wanted to slap her with both her chicken cutlets.

"His wife is _dead_, mother." I spat, my fists clenched and my jaw so tight, I was surprised I could talk. "His wife died of cancer four years ago, not everything is all about money."

She cocked her perfectly threaded eyebrow at me. "Well, that was a lucky escape for her."

I gasped in shock and in pain. I could not believe this was my family.

"Brittany, you are not to hang around with them any more." My father demanded, finishing his drink.

"Both him and his daughter have tattoos and more than likely the youngest isn't even her sister. It's probably one of those teenage pregnancies you hear so much of these days." My granny added, waving her hand in the air.

"And what's so wrong with that?" I questioned, feeling the need to protect Quinn.

She looked at me as if I really needed that explaining.

"This is unbelievable." I muttered, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the way Santana wrapped my wrists up for me since my mother wasn't going to do it and how her dad had made me breakfast in bed since my father wasn't going to offer and how Quinn opened up to me today when I knew nothing at all about my family whatsoever.

And they knew nothing about me.

"Santana's dad _owns_ a chain of bakeries around the world, he doesn't just_ work_ at one." I argued, hating how it was like this mattered when it didn't even a little bit.

"Brittany, get changed."

I looked at my father and for a moment I was terrified of him again. Terrified that I would be banned from the garden or forbidden to use the swimming pool. Terrified that he would force me to college and I would end up even more lost and confused. So for a second, I was prepared to run around and do as he said but then I remembered the way Santana kissed me on the rocks last night and how she cried and how I didn't know why she'd cried and I remembered the things her dad had told me that morning and the way I'd felt driving in the car with Quinn and Rachel and nothing was ever going to make me lose this piece of happiness I'd taken so long to find.

I needed Santana and I was sure she needed me too. I needed her family and I needed her friends and there were parts of them that all needed me and I would be damned if I let my overweight, money driven father get in the way of that.

So I looked him dead in the eye and I said, "No."

He slammed his drink on the counter and for the first time, it didn't make me jump.

"Brittany, we are the Pierce's and we have a reputation to uphold!" He shouted, his face growing tomato red. "You will _not _be seen with The Lopez's or anyone else for that matter, do you understand?"

I kept my look in his eye and I said, "Daddy."

His eyes did not budge.

So I said, "Why is it so important you spend time with me tonight?"

He didn't answer, so I carried on.

"Tonight's dinner will go the same as it always has. Mr Gonzalez will have his chef cook us mango marinated Mahi Mahi and you will tell him once again how equisite it is. You will talk about how development work on the resort is going and everyone else will just sit there and pretend to listen and laugh when they're supposed to and I will sit there thinking that's just how families work."

I take a breath quickly and try and grasp what it is I'm trying to say to my father since the look he was giving me was making my brain think I was pointless and nothing I was saying was true.

"But we never talk to each other. Even when we have dinner as just us, you will all sit there in silence and if anyone says anything, it will be about the bloody food. I don't know any of you and you definitely don't know me, so why must I be there tonight?" I question, my hands falling to my sides like defeated bows and arrows.

My family look at me like I'm talking Spanish.

(In that moment, I really wish I was.)

I took a deep breath and turned to my mother. "I mean, the other day, Santana bandaged my wrists for me, since I'd used too much up trying to do it myself. Did you know you were supposed to be doing that for me?" I looked to my sister. "Did you know that I'm also a national street dance champion? Yes, three times." I hiccuped slightly and forced the next one down, turning back to my father. "Did you also know that what I hate the most is how we are finally talking to one another, yet all you can hear is the cries of your possibly sinking reputation as it slips down the goddamn drain? Father, we don't even know anyone here that will even begin to think less of you just because you have a daughter who hangs around with a Latina family." I watched as my father swallowed thickly. "Maybe you should be more concerned with what they'll think of you having a daughter who spends no time at all with her own."

His breath shook as he inhaled and I could feel the rest of my family praying to be in a different room than this one.

"You've never cared in your life about what I'm doing or who I'm with. You sent me to boarding school for crying out loud, you have no idea who I was friends with there. And even now, when you're randomly springing it on me, I am still so sorry that you have me in your family because I am so much more than aware of how problematic I am."

My father pops his drink next to the sink and walks up to me.

"Get changed." He growls, his teeth clanking together. "Now."

I stare straight ahead as he brushes past me and walks out of the room.

...

The manager's private villa is at the very top of the hill - even higher than ours. He has a balcony that I always thought looked like the front of Titanic. I'd always lift my arms up to the sky and pretend to be Rose and wonder if I was ever going to have a Jack.

And now I did and I wasn't even allowed to see her.

I was sat at the dinner table, wearing a black dress I had every intention of burning and glaring at the mahi-mahi served in front of me. I hated the way it mocked me. I was starving but I was starving for Santana.

Not mahi-mahi.

My mother was sat next to me, ignoring me and it somehow comforted me that her body language was normal again.

My father was opposite me and every time his conversation with Mr Gonzalez finished, he would look at me pointedly and mouth, _eat._

I wanted to slap him.

My brother came to sit on my other side and looked at me apologetically. I turned away.

"Britt, I'm sorry about earlier," He whispered.

"No you're not." I spat back.

"We perhaps handled it the wrong wa-"

"Raymond, you've banned me from people who make me feel fucking normal, how would that make you feel?"

He hushed me whilst looking around to check our parents weren't listening. I crossed my arms over my chest and let the goosebumps appear when the breeze blew over us.

"Are you cold?" He asked, stupidly.

"Freezing." I replied.

"Do you want to go back?" He questioned, pointing down to our villa.

"If I'm not with my friends, I don't give a shit about where else you put me."

He sighed. "How about I cover for you?"

I turned to him doubtfully. "Raymond, they're not letting me out of their sight."

"I'll say you don't feel well." He said, as if it was a flawless plan. "Just don't spend too long with your friends."

I stood up then but because I was so urgent, my parents looked over and told me to sit back down. I wanted desperately to say no but Mr Gonzalez was looking at me expectantly, so I hastily mumbled, "Sorry, I feel terrible, I'm gonna go home."

He smiled his warm smile and I thought how ironic it was that he was Latina too yet here my father was eating dinner with him. What my father did for reputation.

"Raymond, go with her." My father ordered.

I smirked.

I hadn't been able to contact Santana and tell her I wouldn't be there, so if I turned up now, I'd just look rude. So back at the villa, Raymond stayed with me whilst I called down to Valerie and asked her to tell Santana I was okay and sorry I couldn't make it. When I hung up, my brother told me he was sorry again and offered to stall our parents for as long as possible. As soon as he was gone, I took off my dress and then my bra and I walked out to the infinity pool.

It was warm from the day's sun when I stepped in and it made my body tingle. I took one look at the edge, marveled in the way it felt to have water encasing my naked chest and sunk my head below the surface.

The relief was instant.

It was quiet and especially because it was dark, I felt engulfed in nothing but warmth and safety. I was safe. I was so safe and it made my heart calm right down. When I felt my lungs tightening, I rose to the surface, cooled my face with the night air, inhaled and slipped back under again. It was a drug I'd never get over.

But then when I rose again, Santana was standing there, in black lace underwear, her long hair draped across her shoulders.

I was instantly turned on and instantly relieved she was here.

She stepped into the pool slowly, teasingly, as if she was trying to get used to the temperature. Her eyes didn't leave mine, even when she slipped underwater to swim her way to me. And then when she resurfaced inches from my body, she drew herself up to my face like a fucking mermaid and slung her arms around my waist. I wiped the water off her cheeks and her eyes and her hands ran up my back to my shoulders to pull me in.

It was then she realised I wasn't wearing a bra.

Her fingernails scratched their way down to the small of my back and she clawed a little there, pushing my hips into her own, the water resting just under our boobs. I felt her as she leant her forehead against mine, her breathing erratic like she'd just been running.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She whispered hard, her chest heaving up and down.

"No," I replied quickly, shaking my head and grasping the back of her neck. "Just kiss me."

So she did and it was like we'd been apart for years and although it seemed severely dramatic, somehow being this way with Santana felt totally right. I really did feel like I hadn't kissed her in years.

Her hands wavered all over my back where my bra should have been and as she pulled me closer, I brought my hands round to her front and unclasped her own. She brought her lips back a touch where I could taste her sweet breath on my lips and I knew she was telling me I didn't have to. So I leant forward, took her bottom lip between my teeth and pulled her bra off her shoulders. Her hair was wet, but both sides seemed to cover her boobs completely and I was sure no one had ever looked so remarkable.

I don't even know how she got here but I was so happy that she was. She seemed to appear out of no where and like a guardian angel or something equally as protective, here she was, all black lace underwear and olive skin, making me feel nervous and beautiful all at the same time.

She lifted the hair off my neck and pulled it over to my right side. I let go of her lip and she whined, grabbing mine this time and lifting me up so my legs were around her waist. She pushed me against the wall at the back of the pool and ground so hard into me, I thought I was going to collapse. It was like my body was doing the talking and I had no control over anything - like my arms knew when to hook round her neck and my legs knew when to curl around hers.

(like we'd been made to write this story together.)

My hands had always been made to touch Santana.

Her kisses went to my neck then and I smirked at how I was going to have more than one hickey now. She sucked so hard, I saw the stars dance above us and when she moaned my name into my skin, I pulled her closer with my legs. Her breath hitched so desperately, I felt ecstatic.

"Santana," I whispered, bringing her head back up to me and kissing her again. She drew her tongue all over my lips and when I caught it, sucked it and swallowed her into my mouth, I whispered again, "make love to me."

She paused, as did my brain, kept her lips millimeters from mine and loosened her grab on my neck. For a moment, I thought she was going to back out or something because I'd inadvertently admitted I loved her but then I thought maybe she was going to stop because she was scared of love and scared of feelings and I was finally seeing what her dad and Quinn were telling me about.

And I panicked because I didn't even know if I was ready for this yet. I didn't know if I was ready to let myself be that vulnerable in front of Santana because she was so beautiful and I wasn't - not even a little bit compared to her.

But then she stuck her tongue out, traced my bottom lip and continued right down my neck, along my collarbone and right down until her whole mouth was encasing my left nipple.

I don't think I've ever groaned like that in my life. And I knew then that I was okay with this - I couldn't stop her or myself even if I tried.

"_Fuck, Santana_," I gasped, leaning my head back and thinking if anything happened to me now, I would die happy.

She sucked so gently on it, you'd think she wasn't even there. But I felt her. I felt her so much, it was almost overwhelming, so much so that I couldn't take one moment more without telling her how I felt.

"Santana," I breathed, my head tilting back once more. She cupped my right boob in her palm and squeezed it softly, as her tongue made its way back up to my mouth. "Santana," I tumbled into her mouth when she reached me. "Santana, I love you."

She grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck, pulled it back and moaned so hard against my neck, I thought maybe she had already come. It was so intense and if there was a way a person could feel so much all at once, it was the two of us right now. Pulling my head back to hers, I saw the tiniest frown on her face like she'd done something wrong and I wanted to kiss it away because nothing she had done to me so far felt wrong in any way at all. I leant forward but she pulled back and smiled a little.

My heart jumped the smallest beat.

"Brittany," She whispered, her hold on my neck dominant and her cup on my boob turning to finger caressing. "I have been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you; I will make love to you for as long as you'll have me."

She then possessively grabbed the wall behind us and pushed herself even harder into me, loosening her grip on my neck and bringing that hand round to cup my cheek so she could kiss me again. Gently. I reached down to grab her ass and she moaned into my mouth. My hands were scratching up and down her back and although I didn't want to hurt her, the way she was touching my boob was making it impossible to stay still.

She could tell, I think, because she strongly lifted me onto the pool edge, so I was sat down with my legs still in the water. I felt my heart rate rapidly increase as I watched her split my legs and bring her lips to the insides of my left thigh. My head fell back on its own accord and all I could do was sit there, my hands leaning behind me and my eyes closed because I swear lips could never feel as good as Santana's did.

Her hands traced up my calves whilst she kissed further and further into me and just as she reached my panties, she brought her palms to the poolside in between my legs and reached herself up, just like that. And still balancing on the side, she leant forward and caught my lips with hers, taking my tongue and turning it into a masterpiece.

She pulled out further from the water, so I scooted a little way back and lay down. I brought her on top of me, her body drenched from the pool and split her legs so she was straddling my left thigh, my heart beating so fast it was going to fly out of my ribs and land in the ocean. The feel of her pushing against me there was undeniably sexy, so when I rose my leg just the tiniest bit and she whined into my mouth, I'd never felt more incredible. And she pushed against me the whole time we kissed and she pushed harder when I brought my hands onto her ass and when I dragged them up along her back to her hair, she never once stopped pushing - like she couldn't help it. It was by far the hottest thing I'd ever experienced.

"Santana, you're so gorgeous." I breathed, as she captured my nipple again, her back dipping into me and her neck rising above my chest. Her long, thick tongue flattened against my boob and she dragged it right across to the other one, like she couldn't decide which one to suck first.

Maybe she couldn't.

When she found my lips again, she brought her face up and looked right into my eyes. They looked almost black in this light, like a werewolf or something and it made my lower belly explode with heat. They were half drawn, like she was drunk and in love.

She was the single sexiest thing I had ever encountered.

"You are the most beautiful person, Brittany." She said, her eyes full of sincerity. "You are so fucking beautiful."

And I believed her.

So I lifted her hair off one side of her neck and brought it over to the other. She was watching me as I did this and from where I was so nervously turned on, my palms were shaking, so she brought one of them to her lips and kissed it right in the middle. With the kiss still lingering, I whispered, "lift up," and she did, her breasts falling right above my eyes.

And there was her piercing.

I leant forward, completely captivated by it, and pulled it into my mouth, humming at the clink it made against my teeth. Santana moaned so loud, I thought half the resort must have heard.

I smirked and moaned with her, right against her nipple. The vibrations made her shiver and if I could have captured a sound, it would have been the way she dropped her jaw so goddamn invitingly and sighed my name right into the stars.

And watching her face as I cupped her boob and she pushed against my thigh, was like watching the sunrise. There were so many colors, I didn't know where to look first.

She was perfect and she was painting herself all over me.

I felt her goosebumps suddenly against my hands so I whispered, "are you cold?"

"No baby," She instantly replied, leaning herself down and kissing me. She brought my hands over my head and interlocked her right fingers with them. I shivered as she trailed her left hand down from my neck, over my nipple, and down to my stomach where she paused and said, "I love you," and my tummy had never felt so flat in all it's life.

Her hand then continued its trail until it reached where it had gone earlier that day. My breath hitched because more than anything, I wanted Santana to touch me there.

"Please," I found myself begging and it was so uncharacteristic, I nearly laughed. "Santana,"

She smirked above me and kissed me so hard, I couldn't work out where my tongue ended and hers began. And just as I felt her fingers about to touch me down there, she lifted her lips from mine and asked, "is this okay?"

And I growled back, "fucking touch me already,"and I don't even know where it came from.

And when I finally felt her fingers on me, a surge of butterflies flew straight out of my lower belly and into her palm and it was like she felt it too since she cupped me there like I was the most precious stone in existence. She was making me whine like no time before and if there hadn't been a floor beneath us, I was sure we would have been falling.

With her lips on my neck and her hand between my legs, I was scratching her back like it held a thousand secrets beneath it When I sucked her nipples, she was moaning even louder than I was and we were sure the whole world could hear how we were making each other feel. Then she slipped her fingers inside me and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe because I'd never once been touched like this in my life and having her hands down there - a girl I'd only known just over a week - felt so forbidden and so naughty and so fucking right.

"Santana, fuck," I breathed, pulling my hands through her hair and kissing her.

And then she started pushing against my leg again like she couldn't get enough of me and with every curl of her fingers inside me, she pushed a little harder and half my heart flew out my chest and straight into her hands.

She kissed me as our rhythm created a sort of breathy melody and even though her lips were slipping against my jaw line and my teeth kept nipping hers, we found a harmony that worked for us and it really did not take long for my hips to start canting into hers like someone else was controlling my body.

Maybe Santana was.

"Fuck," Santana whined into my jaw, licking me there. "I lo- fuck, _Britt..._"

I could feel my walls cling to her fingers and the feeling of being unwrapped right in the palm of her hand was so overwhelming that I felt Santana's hands shaking within me.

And then she pushed so hard against my leg, I couldn't tell whether the pool water fell there or her. It made me heart moan as well as me.

My chest was heaving and so was hers and once the feeling had subsided slightly, I brought my arms from behind my head and tilted her chin up from where she had moaned above my chest.

"Hey, San, are you okay?" I asked softly.

She smiled weakly at me, her eyes crinkling beautifully in the corners. I felt her remove her fingers from between my legs and it made me bite my lip. She smiled even bigger at that and went to trail her fingers back up my legs, my stomach and my chest, leaving a long, wet line. And then she brought her fingers to her lips and sucked the two fingers she had used right into her mouth and I nearly came all over again.

"Fuck." I said.

Santana took my hand from beneath her chin and interlocked our fingers. "You," She said, looking from one eye to the other. "You are amazing. I don't know what just happened but I've never felt anything like that before, I just know that... I just know that I love you. So much."

My eyes softened and my heart beat faster. The look in her eyes was amazing and I wanted to bottle it. Without wasting another moment, I reached up, grabbed her neck and kissed her and fuck, was it so good kissing Santana.

"You are so mine." I said, into her lips.

"God, yes," Santana replied, melting into my mouth. "And you... you are _so _mine."

**Please, from the bottom of my vagina, let me know what you think of this story :) **


	11. A Song About Love

**The Tenth Day**

"Sanny?" Ohana says, crawling over to you as you sit on the sand, your feet in the ocean, at the resort next to your own. "Why didn't Britt-Britt come with us?"

You turn to your little sister. "Sweetie, I don't know."

Ohana's face falls as she turns to face the sea. She hovers next to you, her hand on your shoulder, looking more sad than... well, you don't really know.

"Come here," You whisper, pulling her onto your lap and sitting her there. She rests her hands on your thighs and you smile as you remember when Brittany did that on the boat.

"I miss Brittany." Ohana mumbles, crossing her arms.

You giggle but then your face falls too. "Yeah, me too."

"Did you not invite her?" Ohana continues to question and you feel your blood get a little hotter. But it's not her fault. You're just frustrated.

"No one answered her door when I rang by her villa earlier, Han." You kiss the top of her head and sigh into it. "So I don't really know where she is."

Ohana sighs as well and you hug her closer. You hadn't wanted to leave Brittany last night but she had this panic in her eyes and her whole body was shaking and you didn't want to scare her even more. But you were mad because you'd just been with her in ways you'd never been with anyone else before and it was like she'd just slashed through it with the most massive blade you could think of.

And you didn't want to think about fucking blades.

She'd been like a guard dog who'd heard something suspicious and had suddenly quivered with anticipation but it had radiated off Brittany like fear. So you'd frowned and gently leant down to kiss her forehead to soothe her but the way her eyes closed in panic made you think maybe you'd done this too soon.

But she'd been so desperate for you and you _knew _she had felt something unlock within her because you had too and you'd seen it in her eyes when she told you she loved you.

You'd wanted to wake up with Brittany in tangled limbs and messy sheets but you guess not even your love story can be a fairytale.

Your mom would have cuddled you and told you it would be okay and Brittany had probably just been scared, which is okay. But what your mom didn't know is that you were scared too.

Terrified even.

But you'd heard the desperation in Brittany's brother's voice and when he met you at their villa door. He looked worried - concerned even - so when you eventually saw Brittany, looking so ironically peaceful sleeping under the water, the only thing you could think of doing was joining her.

So you had.

And then when you touched Brittany, you swear your hand nearly went up in flames.

It was everything you had been waiting for and if you hadn't been so in love with Brittany's tongue, you were sure that maybe you would have frozen there. But she was moaning in your mouth and it had flared something within you that had never been lit before.

_Desire._

And today, you wanted to share the afterglow with her. The way her bones had suddenly seemed less pointy and how they had fit so carefully incased in yours like they were sleeping there. You wanted to hold her hand and just _know_, in your heart, how it had touched you the night before and how yours had touched her in places only the two of you would ever know. You wanted to take her behind the palm trees and make her all too aware of how beautiful she looked, with her eyes turning aquamarine in the glistening sun and her hair blowing freely over her freckled nose.

But no one had answered the door and now, as you're sat on the beach of a different resort, you won't even know if Brittany is okay or not.

And that kills you slightly.

"I wanted Brittany to meet Mom today," Ohana suddenly says and your heart stops.

"Wait, what do you mean?" You ask her, pulling her closer.

Ohana picks up a chunk of sand in her fist and sprinkles it over your legs. "Remember I have that picture of when Dad had painted my face like a tiger but I was in a duck costume because that's what I had meant to be?"

You giggle. "Yes, and Dad was so mad at himself that he went out and bought you two real ducks from the pet store and Mom called them Pea and Nut because that's what you said he'd been."

Ohana giggles too. "I miss those ducks." She says.

"Yeah," You say back. "Me too."

"I miss Mom." Ohana whispers and you may as well have someone swinging on your heart strings.

"Oh, Han," You whisper back, snuggling closer to her.

"I just want Brittany to meet her because I think she's so pretty and Mom would think so too, wouldn't she?"

You smile. "Yes, she would."

"Do you think Brittany's pretty?" Ohana asks, leaning back into you.

"She's stunning."

Ohana chuckles. "I knew you'd say that."

"Why'd you ask then?" You frown, smiling.

"Because I want to tell Brittany that you definitely like her and you definitely want to marry her and you definitely want to kiss her."

You laugh so loud, people on the beach turn to stare at you. "Ohana," You say, resting your chin on her head. "Don't tell Brittany that just yet because it's our little secret."

Ohana pulls her finger across her lips telling you she's got them sealed. You giggle and watch as she spots a starfish in the next rolling wave. She rushes forward, picks it up and cradles it against her. When you both walk back to your family and friends for lunch, she places it in a bucket of water next to you and tells you she's named it Brittany so that she can be here when she's really not.

Your heart melts.

...

You're trying to concentrate on the flying shuttlecock thats hurtling towards your face but all you can think about is Brittany. If you just knew she was okay then you'd devote all your attention to your friends but it's proving really difficult since you don't.

The shuttlecock misses your face by inches and lands mockingly by your side on the sandy floor. Puck laughs over the other side of the net and Kurt snickers. Usually, you'd snap at them or something but right now, you kinda just feel really drained.

Quinn comes to sling her arm over your neck and kisses your cheek. "Next time, Lopez," She mutters, smirking at you as she walks away. You lazily retrieve the shuttlecock and send it flying back over to Puck. You watch as he slings it over to Sam on your side, who in turn hits it across to Rachel. She sends it back your way and once again you miss it.

"Santana!" She wails, her racket falling aimlessly at her side. "You're meant to move your racket if you want any chance of hitting it!"

Puck hits her on the shoulder and Kurt tells her to shut up. You ignore them; you're not in the mood to fight back today. Sam notices and walks over to you.

"You okay?" He questions, placing his big palm on your shoulder.

"Sure," You mumble, raking your hand through your hair. You know he's only trying to help but you're really not in the right frame of mind to care. The way your white bikini sits on your tanned skin is starting to irritate you and you just want to leave.

"If it's any consolation, I'm sure she's thinking about you too." He mumbles, looking awkward.

You smile tightly at him and try and thank him through your eyes. He pats your back and you look away.

Quinn offers to take your serve for you which she does but you can't take this aimless waiting, so you tell her you're going back and drop your racket on the side of the net. Rachel calls after you but you continue walking.

You just have to know she's okay. You shared something really special last night and it would kill you if Brittany simply disregarded that.

You're heart picks up pace at the very thought.

"Santana!"

You groan because you really don't want Rachel following you.

"San!"

You keep walking but the dwarf is fast and she catches up fairly quickly.

"Santana, would you slow down?" She's out of breath and you use it to your advantage. Rachel sighs. "For fucks sake, Santana!"

You stop, because never in the entire four years you've known Rachel Berry, have you ever heard her swear. Her face is red and flustered and her eyes are desperate. You almost want to hug her.

"Sit," She demands, indicating towards the pier in between the two resorts. You follow her since you feel like if you don't, she'll swear again and it sounds ugly coming out of Rachel's mouth. The two of you sit at the end, your legs dangling off the edge and even though you know you shouldn't, you can't help but wish you were doing this with Brittany.

"I'm sorry I made you swear." You say and your hand comes to your mouth because you don't even know where that came from. You've never apologized to Rachel before.

She seems to notice because she giggles softly. "That's okay," She says, her green bikini fraying from where she'd been so much in the water. "It seems to be the only thing that will make you listen."

You snort because however much that isn't true, you're not about to tell Rachel that just by looking in Brittany's eyes, she can make you listen more than a simple curse could.

Rachel is silent for a while and you wonder why she decided to follow you. You're just about to ask when she bursts out laughing.

"What the fuck, Berry?" You ask, frowning at her.

She raises her hands in the air and turns to you. "Look at you!" She laughs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You're Santana Lopez and yet here you are moping around, pining for a girl you met just nine days ago." She giggles even more like she can't help herself and you get mad.

"Why is that so funny?"

You expect her to shrink back under your death glare but she smiles even more.

"Because I've never seen you like this before." She answers, "And it's so nice to see."

"Ugh," You complain, turning back to the sea, "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because it's true!" Rachel breaths, excitedly. "Santana, it makes me happier than you'll ever know to see you so happy."

You turn and frown at her. She smiles genuinely.

"You know, we're more similar than you think, San."

"Yeah?" You say, because you don't think that's possible.

"Yes." She replies simply, looking at you seriously. "When I first met Finn, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever spent a single moment not knowing him."

She smiles and you smile too.

"He was gorgeous. Tall and charming, with this adorable dorky smile that I could never get tired of." Her eyes glisten over with memories and you look away, not sure where she wanted to take this. "And I just knew."

You turn back to her and ask, "Knew what?"

She closes her eyes for a while and then opens them to the sun. "I just knew he was the one. My person. My soulmate."

You breath hitches then and you wonder if Rachel Berry had just crawled into your mind.

"And I see the way you look at Brittany." She continues, placing her hand on your thigh. For the first time, you don't brush it off. "I'm not dumb, Santana. It's like you've forgotten what perfection looks like and then you see her and you instantly remember - like you're coming home again after being away for what feels like forever." Rachel's eyes fill slightly and you place your hand on hers. "And, I don't know, you look at each other the way old souls do. Like you've known each other before, in another life maybe. You've never looked at anyone else that way before. At least, not since I've known you."

You cough a little bit because you're actually being incredibly serious with Rachel Berry and she's not getting squawky and you're not getting irritable. Rachel wipes her eyes and grips your own.

"Finn used to look at me that way." She whispers. "I miss being looked at like that _so_ much."

You grasp her hand and wonder how Rachel ever got over losing him. Because even after knowing Brittany for a week, you're not sure you could carry on the same knowing her and not being with her.

You guess Rachel isn't carrying on the same.

"You know, I hate to say this, Rachel but I do think you are one of the strongest people I know." You cringe slightly at your own words. Rachel smiles happily.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that." She breaths, relief in her voice.

"Don't hold your breath, wait another four years, I'm sure it'll come out again." You grin as Rachel laughs and despite yourself, you do feel a lot calmer.

"You're very funny, Santana." She says, nudging you with her shoulder. You giggle. "Do you remember that time when you didn't want to get the subway by yourself at midnight just to meet up with that girl whose name I'm sure you've forgotten, so you woke me up and made me come with you?"

You laugh because god, that had been a terrible night. "Wait, I think I was on my way home wasn't I? I'd already slept with her."

"Okay, slut." Rachel mutters and you gasp.

"Berry!"

She giggles. "Sorry, I'm joking."

"You better be."

"You're not a slut, Santana." She says, her face turning sober. "You're probably the least sluttiest of us all."

You hum in agreement. "Who do you think is the sluttiest?"

Rachel bites her lip in thoughtful amusement. "Kurt."

"Ha!" You burst out. Rachel laughs because you're always doing that. "Oh my god, you're so right. Poor Blaine."

"What do you mean poor Blaine?" Rachel says, opening her mouth in surprise. "Blaine is the worst."

"Well, they can be sluts together."

"Maybe we could write a musical about it." Rachel suggests, swinging her legs. There's a giggle still lurking in her voice. "Call it, 'The Slut Parade'."

"The Gay Edition," You add, the two of you bursting into laughter again.

"I wish I was gay." Rachel hushes under her breath and you laugh at her.

"Why? It's so difficult."

She rolls her eyes. "Screw that," She says, flailing her arms around. "They could throw all they had at me and I wouldn't give a single Barbra about it." She smirks. "But it's also difficult being that girl who lost her boyfriend and won't even look at anyone else." Her face thins and you feel a weird combination of sadness and sympathy.

Sympathy for Rachel Berry.

She carries on. "I want to be gay because at least then I'll never have to look at a man the way I looked at Finn. At least then I'll know for sure that Finn Hudson was in fact the only man I've ever loved."

Your heart stops laughing and your lips stop grinning.

"Rachel..." You mutter, squeezing her leg again.

She looks down for a moment and then lifts her eyes back to you. She looks sad and happy and confused and relieved all at the same time, so this time, you don't hesitate in leaning forward to give her a hug.

As you do, you whisper tightly in her ear, "He would have wanted you to fall in love again."

She breaks a small sob then so you hug her tighter. When you part, she whispers a thank you and Quinn's lovely voice calls over laughing at how you were just hugging Rachel Berry. You wink at the smaller girl beside you and laugh when Quinn comes to throw both her arms round the two of you and hug you close to her chest. She pretends to kiss you both until you're all struggling on the floor for air. When she stops and you're lying in a heap, Quinn suggests you walk back to the resort and go find Brittany together. She helps you both up, links both her arms with the two of yours and heads back across the pier.

Sometimes, you wonder where you'd be if Quinn and Rachel had never been a part of your life.

Sometimes, you think you wouldn't even be here at all.

...

She wasn't on the beach and you kind of panicked because what if she'd come down in search of you and she couldn't find you?

_Shit._

Quinn feels you stiffen beside her and tells you to calm down, that she's sure Brittany's fine and with her family somewhere. But what she doesn't realise is Brittany hates her family and wouldn't spend time with them, even if they forced her.

Would she?

For the first time, you really wished she'd told you everything.

Rachel asks if you've got her number and you kick yourself because you hadn't even thought of getting it. But then you realised you didn't think you'd be apart since you were staying in the same resort. And then you start panicking even more because you didn't even know when Brittany was leaving and what if she was leaving today and had already gone that morning and she hadn't had a chance to tell you and say goodbye? Even worse, what if she hadn't wanted to say goodbye? What if she was so scared of what happened last night, she just took off, hoping to never see you again?

Your heart was beating so fast, you wondered how you weren't collapsing on the floor.

Quinn leads you to reception and asks to use their phone. She calls up to Brittany's villa but she gets no reply. You even ask Valerie if she'd seen them but she informs you no one had left the resort this morning.

You're beginning to wonder if Brittany even wants to see you at all.

"Quinn," You say, moving towards the shuttle stop, "I'm going up there."

"Well we're coming with you," Rachel quips, following quickly behind.

You're waiting at the stop for about ten minutes and no shuttles have come down and it's making you even more agitated. You're still just in your white bikini and for a moment you feel exposed since even Quinn has a wrap around her and Rachel has a sundress.

"Fuck this," You murmur, standing up. "I'm sorry, you two, but I'm worried about her."

Quinn looks at her watch and moves her lips to a straight line. "It's four o clock, San, I would be too."

You look at her with gratitude before moving towards the start of the hill. "I'm gonna walk."

"Okay," Rachel says, "We'll stay here in case a shuttle comes."

You thank them and begin your way up the steep road. You realise you're coming across as clingy and paranoid since Brittany could probably just be sunbathing by her pool instead of on the beach but you _know _Brittany. You know she won't be lying in the sun up there and playing games with her family. If she's up there, she'll be cooped up in her room and you want to be there with her.

The incline of the resort makes your quads burn but you power on as if it's nothing to you. You pass all the lower villas and the ocean view rooms. You spot the spa and by the time you make it past the Italian restaurant midway up the resort, your abs are kind of dying too. You're probably red in the face as well, something that doesn't happen very often and you're definitely out of breath since you're practically running up this hill.

But then you see her coming down the hill too and your legs are sprinting before you even get a chance to tell them to. She doesn't notice you until you reach her and pull her into the hedge at the side of the road and when she does, the look of relief on her face has you abandoning every thought you had about Brittany avoiding you.

"Baby," You breathe, pulling her towards you and kissing her. She tastes the way sunflowers look in summer and when she plants her palm on your cheek and breathes a shaky gasp into your lips, you want to cry because she seems so desperate and so fucking relieved.

Like she's been hungry for you all day.

When you pull apart, she looks at you with her eyes shining like stardust. "I'm so sorry," She whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear and flattening her other hand just above your chest. She looks like she's trying to find words to explain something but she can't so instead she rests her forehead on yours and scrunches her eyes together.

You don't know what words she's searching for and you don't know what words you're searching for either, so you bring her lips to yours again and cup her neck. And kissing Brittany again is like putting vaseline on cracked lips. The relief is almost overwhelming.

Your hand tightens on her neck whilst both of hers rake straight through your hair and right back down to your chest. You groan because _fuck_ it feels good.

"San," She murmurs against your mouth, her eyes still closed. You open yours gently and kiss the corner of her mouth.

"Baby, it's okay, shh." You whisper, leaning back and placing your pointer finger against her lips. Her eyes are swollen like she's been crying and a part of your heart breaks apart.

She sighs and kisses your finger. "I wish it was," She mumbles and you frown.

"Hey, it's alright, cause you're with me now, okay?" You tell her, cupping her face in your hands. You brush away a hair from her eyes and smile softly. "I've been dying to see you."

She pushes her eyes back into her head and breaths a sigh before closing her eyes. When she opens them, she looks like she's about to cry. "All I've been thinking about today is you."

Your breath catches in your throat and a smile grows on your lips. You almost want to laugh because it sounds all too familiar.

'Today's been crap." You say bluntly and Brittany giggles.

She leans forward and just wraps her ams around you. Where she's taller, you revel in how easy and lovely it is to just wrap yours around her waist and for the first time, you're not thinking only about how skinny it is.

"Please just take me away from here." She asks, clinging to your neck.

Your heart falls then because 'here' should be a safe, happy place since she loves it so much. But despite yourself, you nod and take her hand, walking back down to the jeep.

When you reach the bottom, you spot Quinn and Rachel still waiting and wave at them. They wave back, put their thumbs up and make a sign to call them later on. You smile your thanks at them and lead Brittany to the car park.

And driving freely down an empty straight road, with your hair blowing madly behind you and the most beautiful girl sat in the passenger seat, feels like the most exotic, organic and wildly ecstatic thing you have ever done. The way Brittany lowers her head, almost in slow motion, so it rests on top of her seat and the way she smiles as the wind takes her arms into the air makes your heart really race.

Then almost suddenly, you actually realise why your heart took it's first ever beat.

You are looking at Brittany and she is, head to toe, palm to palm, rib to rib, left ventral to right ventral, everything you have been born to love and it almost takes your breath away how _happy _you are that she is your saving grace - that she is your reason for overcoming nearly everything you have been so lost over before.

"Brittany," You say, but it comes out as a choked whisper, so you repeat yourself a little louder and she turns to look at you, glitter in her eyes.

The road turns a little to the left, so you carefully follow it, before taking Brittany's hand across the middle and locking your fingers together. She smiles delicately and before she can turn around again, you mouth, "I love you," right into the St Lucian air.

The pink in her cheeks makes you feel irrevocably weightless for just a moment.

It is magical.

You drive past this open field full of a green crop you don't recognize. Brittany asks you to pull in, so of course you do and you park the jeep just under a tamarind tree, out of view from the road and nearby houses.

"Wait," Brittany whispers loudly as you go to turn the lights off. "Leave them on."

You offer her a questioning look but she simply focuses on the jeep's radio player and presses around with some buttons. Nothing seems to work so she asks for your phone and you give it to her without a second thought. Moments later, she's got Spice Girls blaring out the jeep's speakers and you're giggling like the tree just farted or something.

And then she's scrolling through your music and her face contorts in disgust.

"Babe," She scowls and where you should feel upset at her distaste, you find yourself falling more in love with her. "I cannot believe you have this song on your phone."

"Wait," You interject, leaning over to see which song. She jerks back and you laugh because you want to know which song she's talking about. "Baby, which song do you mean?"

She's laughing and so are you and before you know it, you've climbed on top of her and wrestled the phone out of her hands.

_**Kiss The Girl.**_

You burst out laughing and Brittany breathes at you like she's witnessing a hummingbird being born. Her eyes are playful, yet mesmerized and just as she hits play, you find your lips settling right on hers, a rush of relief flooding through your veins.

And then you mumble right into her mouth, your tongue toying with her bottom lips, "_Percussion, strings, winds, words._.."

Her giggle makes you want to rip her clothes off.

(Sort of.)

But then you're feeling silly, so you pull her up, clamber the two of you out of the jeep and spin her around to the music in front of the jeep headlights. You're mouthing the words and she's gawking at you, like she's surprised you even know the song let alone the lyrics. You want to tell her it's because you have a little sister but she'd know that wouldn't be the reason why.

And you do want to kiss the girl, and Brittany knows, so she delicately leans forward, cups your cheek in her palm and leans forward, taking your tongue in her own and swallowing you completely.

Kissing Brittany is your favourite.

Kissing her becomes even better when you're spinning round and leaping in front of the headlights and giving her piggy backs until she falls into your arms like sleeping beauty. Kissing her becomes the absolute best when the music switches tempo and she drapes her arms around your shoulders to you close.

You are slow dancing and you don't think you have ever felt so intimate with someone in your life.

Her eyes are sparkling and she smells like daisy chains in spring with her hair falling messily over her eyes and her tanned shoulders, although bony, jutting out teasingly from where her shirt has slipped. She's got one arm around your shoulders and the other slips down your arm to take your hand and hold it close to your chests.

You do not take your eyes off her for a second.

There's one of your favourite acoustics playing in the background and from where you are feeling so overwhelmed, you grip your hand on her lower back and pull her closer to you. The light is dimming and the air around you seems to have loosened up and it's only now that you realise you are still just in your white bikini.

"Hey, beautiful," Brittany whispers at you, studying your face for a while and grinning at what she finds there. You quirk your lips up in a half smile. "I am so glad I found you." She says.

You breathe.

Her eyes catch fire again and you find yourself wanting to cross your legs. She's turning you in the slowest circles, her taller frame wrapping around you and all you want to do is make love to her again.

You hide your blush between the two of you in the dimming light.

"My parents are dicks," She suddenly whispers, leaning her head down with yours.

You look up questioningly, gripping her hand.

"How anyone can look at you and not instantly feel joy is beyond me." She continues, biting her lip.

Your eyes gape open. "Baby?" You frown, shivering from the breeze. Brittany notices, tuts you and pulls you back to the jeep. You resist because you want to know what she means but she tugs you a little harder, like she's more interested in getting you warmed up.

There's not much in the jeep but she searches for something nonetheless. In the back is one of Sam's cotton jumpers so you slip it on and laugh at how the arms drop like waterfalls past your fingers. Brittany laughs too and it makes your heart expand with happiness.

"Britt," You whisper, squinting your eyes slightly because you're kind of wary about where her head was a moment ago. She looks up at you and the familiar sadness has tainted her eyes again and you want to kill whatever it is that's put it there because it doesn't fit.

It doesn't fit at all.

Your stance leaning against the bonnet of the jeep feels weak to you and like your ribcage has creaked heavily open and your heart is beating fast and hard right in front of her eyes. She's looking at war with herself and you want to cease it but you have no idea where to put your white flag.

She suddenly moves rather abruptly into the passenger side, her head low and her hands pulling at all her fingers. She's breathing erratically, her eyes are sharp and moving rapidly and as you go to climb in next to her, she mutters so quietly under her breath, "Can we go?"

Your heart sinks and you don't even know why.

"Sure," You mutter defeatedly back because trying to fight with her seems pointless right now. You wish you could rewind several seconds back to slow dancing to a guitar but Brittany seems determined to leave that behind.

The engine revs into action seemingly louder than it has before but you don't have time to think about it because Brittany's eyes are darting all over the place and it's making you drive sloppy. You want to tell her to stop because you need to drive safely but you're almost scared at how instant her mood change was and how maybe if that was so fast, so too could her feelings for you change.

Just like that.

You didn't even want to think about it.

The road thunders beneath the wheels of the jeep and once again, you're not really sure where you're heading, you just know you're heading away from whatever hurt Brittany just now. And you wonder if this is a thing of Brittany's - whether she spends her life running away away from things that scare her or hurt her. And if it is, how you want to stop that.

The night air whips your face suddenly, like a slap from your Mom when you used to ramble about things that worried you. It couldn't come at a better time and instantly, you reprimand yourself for not doing this sooner.

"Okay, you know what, no," You yell through the wind, breaking gently and pulling over into a bus stop under some fig trees. Brittany snaps her head to you, as if she can't quite believe you even dared to say anything. You feel slightly mad, slightly angry and you have to breathe quickly to calm yourself down a little bit.

You pull the hand break up, whip open the door and stomp march across to Brittany's side.

She's still looking wide-eyed.

"You have got to stop this, Brittany." You order, placing your hands on your hips. She frowns in your direction and tears fill her eyes and she looks, for a moment, even more mad than you feel.

"You can't keep running away from things," You carry on, resting one hand on top of her door and sighing. "Look, I know you're sad, okay, it's no secret. And that's okay, you know, I'm not some evil bitch who's gonna hate you for whatever's made you so sad, Britt because it's you."

She looks away from you then and it breaks your heart a little but you hold your ground. She's still wringing her hands, so you step up onto the side and place your palm over them.

"I love you," You say, squeezing her hands. "I'm completely, madly, weirdly in love with you and therefore your sadness is now my sadness."

She tries to pull her hand out your grip but you keep it there and almost growl, "But this, Britt, this has _got _to stop. You just can't keep this up for much longer because you'll burn out. You will and maybe people have told you that before but I need you to actually listen to me."

You turn away and close your eyes for a second just listening to the two of you breathing. You feel torn - half of you wants to hold her close because you feel like any second she's just going to break apart but the other half of you wants to walk away and let her think about how she can't keep ignoring her pain. When you turn back, she's got tears rolling down her cheeks and she's shaking.

"Baby, we were just having the most lovely time back there," You tell her, confusion very present in your voice. You know she notices, because she nods her head the tiniest bit. "I did as you asked; I took you away from the resort. I got you as far away as I could right now and yet you want to leave almost as soon as we get there and I don't even know why? Like, you didn't tell me. You're just going to keep quiet and expect me to do all these things for you and understand every single emotion you feel and every single action you take but Britt, I can't."

She sobs, so you open the door and climb on top of her, ignoring how skinny and fragile she is - right now, you don't really care. Your legs encase her thighs and it warms not only you, but her up as well.

"Brittany," You say, leaning your head forward a little, "I'm sad too. So is Quinn, so is Rachel, we're all a little sad. And maybe your pain is a little more intricate than ours and maybe I'll never know what it is you are going through but I do know that we share something and right now, you can't afford to be selfish with it."

She sobs again and it makes you sigh. Her hands are limp, locked together at the base of your navel. Her head is still low and her cheeks are wet and it makes you feel really small and helpless and angry and sad all at the same time.

"I am so sorry," She whispers in quivers. Your heart breaks.

"Brittany," You whisper, closing your eyes wondering what you're meant to do. "I don't wan't your apologies. I just want you to be honest with me."

She sniffs, so you pinch your finger under her chin and bring her eyes to yours. She looks away, ashamed at herself, so you pull her back.

"No, Brittany, stop." You demand, anger seeping out your lips. "Don't do that. Just look at me now and tell me what the fuck is going on in your head. I don't care if it's terrible or weird or totally normal, I don't give a flying wet monkey's ass, just be painfully honest with me." You take a deep breath. She looks at you uneasily.

"What's wrong with your parents?" You ask, searching her eyes for any glimmer of an answer. "Huh? Why do you hate them so much? Why do you hate your family so much? Why are you so scared of nearly everything? What do you think is going to happen? What made you cut your wrists open? Who looked at you that day and told you that maybe it was a good idea? Why the fuck do you starve yourself? Wh-"

"Okay, Santana, you have to stop." She shakily interrupts, lifting her palm to your face. She looks like she wants to cough but she holds it back, placing the same palm to her throat. She's gone deathly pale and if you couldn't feel her heartbeat through her legs, you'd think she was dead.

You're instantly overwhelmed with guilt.

"Fuck," Tumbles out your mouth before you even have a chance to gather your thoughts. You close your eyes and lift both your hands to your face so you can rub your eyes. "Fuck."

It's silent for a while, Brittany's shaky breaths clashing so horribly violently with your deep and heavy ones, it makes you want to kick something.

Preferably yourself.

How could you lose yourself so quickly like that?

You're kind of surprised she hasn't kicked you off her lap but then you remember you're even sat there in the first place and before your brain can catch up, you're leaning forward and grasping her in a hearty hug, the palm of your left hand cupping the back of her neck desperately.

She, thank god, seems to get your actions and pushes her own palms up the cotton jumper to hold onto your waist tightly. She responds to your temple kiss by kissing your shoulder and soon, you both seem to be breathing slower and more normal again, not moving from where you are embraced.

But then you're still so mad at her. You still want her to know that you're mad and that she cannot treat you that way. Being silent doesn't work with you - you have to know because you want her to be okay more than anything else. So before you tell her you're sorry, you jerkily lift off her legs, climb out the jeep and walk towards an ancient bus stop on the corner of the road, wiping at your face as you go.

You can almost feel her breath being knocked from her lungs.

You sit on the snapping wooden bench under the bus stop, sniffing and blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. Denying the natural urge to run back to Brittany and wrap her up in your arms is almost overwhelming and if you weren't sitting down, you're sure you'd have collapsed on the dirty, muddy floor somewhere halfway between you and the jeep.

She hasn't moved because you can hear her sobbing in the front seat.

That kills you even more.

The rainforest beneath you is dense. In the darkness, it looks somewhat like that green weedy sludge you find on the top of ponds and for a moment, you feel like you want to just leap off the hilltop and dive into it. Maybe get stuck there or something, you don't really know.

All you know is you've accidentally fallen in love with broken glass and from trying to pick up the scattered shards, you've cut your own hands and lost more blood than you first realised.

You think about how Brittany did that to herself on purpose and it squeezes at your heart a little - like a quick, sharp punch right in the fucking middle. Your eyes close and the wind blows and you remember again how little you're wearing. For a moment, you wonder if freezing to death out here would be an easier way to die than loving someone like Brittany.

And then you feel a stab in your chest because whilst you've only known her a little over a week, imagining life back home without knowing her is enough to make you actually want to die.

_How badly have you really fallen for this girl, Lopez_?

You shake your head because even if you wanted to back out right now, you couldn't. There's nothing you can do. You know Brittany now; you know she exists and you know that you really do have a soulmate and you really do have an actual shot at a perfectly normal and lovely future and with someone who wants it just as much back and after everything, that's really all you've strived for. All you've ever really asked for.

But now you're realising how hard it's actually going to be.

You think back to all the friends you had in high school and then college and you feel jealous over how simple their relationships were. Granted, you didn't know what went on behind closed doors but you did know that for the most part, everyone was okay. Everyone was fine.

Everyone wasn't like Brittany.

Yet you fell in love with her.

Stupidly?

Maybe.

There's an unfamiliar drumming in your heart when you think of loving Brittany. You've never felt this much like you actually _need _someone to be okay. You are sure that even if Brittany decided she didn't want to be with you, you'd still have to make sure she was okay, girlfriend or not.

_Girlfriend._

You've never had a girlfriend before. And the word hits you like the slap of the wind earlier.

Brittany is your girlfriend and however much you maybe rushed into loving her, you cannot deny how happy it makes you feel that she is.

Your girlfriend.

Yours.

All yours. No one else's. Just yours.

You're smiling before you can stop yourself and you wonder if this is going to be a thing with Brittany for the rest of your life. Because you will love her for the rest of your life. There's a beat in her heart that matches the rhythm of a beat in yours and however far apart the two of you may come to be, it will always beat for Brittany. Always. Even if you don't stay together.

And that makes your breath leave your body so fast you think the thought maybe winded you.

"Fuck," You whisper silently to yourself. Why was this so difficult?

Did it need to be?

You could just go home and meet someone else because in this world of six and a half billion, you're sure there would be another match for you.

You think about going home to New York and how you'll have to settle right back into the same routine of working for your dad and working at The Spotlight Diner and how you'll have to sing Ohana to sleep every night and cook your dad dinner and write songs to send to labels and start looking for your own place to rent and meeting up with college friends and Rachel and Kurt and visiting your mom's grave and writing more and more...

And it just makes your head hurt.

Because you're here, in paradise, falling in love with this beautiful girl and there are no cares in the world that you need to worry about.

Yet there are - and they are so important.

Does Brittany fit into your life back home? You don't think you can question it, really. You'd change your life if for some reason she didn't. You know how these long distance relationships work but you want Brittany so bad that you don't think you'll even doubt not being with her exclusively.

Over a screen or not.

But maybe you had got a little caught up with your surroundings here. And maybe, just maybe, you did get too carried away with Brittany's beauty and now that her pain is projecting reality like a fucking blinding light right in front of your eyes, you're beginning to think that maybe you've been living in a world that doesn't exist with feelings that you just imagined.

Her hand suddenly falls onto your shoulder then and just through her touch, you know that even if that were true, you still loved this girl and the feelings you have for her are very much real and very much alive.

You plant your face into the palm of your hands and this time, with Brittany's hand pressed cautiously on your shoulder, you can't help but let your tears fall. And you try really hard to not move your body but the way her hand is shaking makes it worse and you seem to crumble into your own palms.

The crickets are screaming around you and for a second, you want to laugh at how you're even in this predicament in the first place. Crying face first into your own hands, wearing nothing but a bikini and cotton sweater underneath a rotting bus stop on a Caribbean island with a girl who was just a stranger to you a month ago.

Was your life always meant to be this unpredictable?

You're crying over someone else's pain and if your mom could see you now, would she laugh or would she be proud?

"B-Britt-" You manage to gasp out, inhaling sharply and deeply, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of Sam's sweater. You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and closing your eyes. You inhale deeply once again and then let it out in a long puff. "Please-" You hiccup and swallow. "Please come here."

You sort of hold your arms out in a desperate fashion, finding her wrists when she moves around you and clasping her onto your lap. She sits warily upon you, unsure whether to comfort you or leave you.

You weren't sure what you wanted either.

"Brittany," You whisper, resting your forehead on her shoulder as she sits with her legs dangling to your right. "I don't know you."

She whimpers a little bit and sniffs delicately.

You sigh.

"I don't even know who you are."

She stiffens and so you pull her closer and tighter.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you those things earlier in that way, I was just so mad and so desperate to understand because I don't think I do." Your throat constricts and you swallow roughly to push it back out. "But that doesn't change the fact I still want to know them. I want the answers, Britt. I want to know you."

She hangs her head low and you feel her breath on your face. It's deafening.

"Those questions don't define me, Santana." She whispers so incredibly delicately, you'd think she was terrified of you.

Maybe, in this moment, she is.

You nod your head firmly and look back up at her. "No, Britt, they don't. And they never will but I still need to know them."

"Why?" Comes her whispered reply. Her voice cracks.

You look up at her and pull your lips in before releasing them with a gentle pop.

"So I can love you better." You say, looking into her eyes. "And more. So I can love you s_o much more_."

Her breath catches in her throat then and it takes all your power not to kiss her.

She looks away and places her right arm around your neck, playing with your hair where her hand falls the other side. She sighs and continues to breathe deeply.

"I just..." She starts but her voice fades away.

You sniff a little and turn your neck to kiss her hand. Her breath catches again.

"San, I don't really know what to say because I don't _want _you to love me for what I've done." She strangles out, her eyebrows bunching together and her little nose scrunching. She sniffs. "I want you to love me for what you see now. You know? I don't like who I've been and what I did to myself and the thought of you loving that makes me so uncomfortable."

She takes a deep breath and twirls your hair around her fingers. "I have no real legit reason to feel the way I do." She continues, looking into the distance. "I just am."

"Britt," You interrupt, making her look at you. "Tell me about yourself. Tell me why every time I see you with your family, I want to take you away from them? Tell me what you feel then if you don't know why? I just want to know. Please."

Her eyes catch in the light from the moon and it makes you smile a little. She seems to relax.

"Ugh, this is difficult because when it comes to my family, I just don't like them and they don't like me." She shrugs like it's completely normal. "That's just the way it's always been. I can't remember a time they didn't resent me and growing up to be a failure has only proven their point that I'm pretty much useless."

You go to question that but she holds her hand up.

"I'm not saying I am a failure, I just feel like one. You know? Everybody does from time to time." She shrugs again and you shake your head. "I was just that kid who wanted to escape and go on adventures and be on my own but not really. I never had any childhood friends and so I've always been used to being by myself and being my own best friend. And it just got worse I guess as I grew up. I don't fit in my family and they know that."

You study her face and when she looks at you, you whisper, "Okay." You sigh and kiss her hand again. "Now tell me about you."

"What? Santana, I ju-"

"No, tell me about _you._" You repeat sternly, cocking your head. "What do you do back home? Are you at college? Do you work? How fucking old are you? Tell me the basics we should have covered before we fell in love."

She laughs at that and you smile because suddenly the air feels a little lighter. "I'm serious, Britt, we don't know these things!"

She giggles again and bites her lip. And then she stands up suddenly, turns to face you and holds her hand out. You giggle with her because you realise what she's doing.

"Hey," She greets, her arm still extended. You grasp it. "I'm Brittany Susan Pierce - twenty years old, former street dance champion three years running, privately-schooled daydreamer and avid duck lover."

You laugh loudly, shaking her hand, a wide grin splitting your face magically.

"I work with a really old lady in her really old book shop in a really old town, with a dog called Peter and a fireplace that doesn't really work anymore." She continues, before leaning down and kissing your hand. You smile even bigger, blushing the tiniest bit. "I live in a house that's too big, with a family that's too proud and a pond that I absolutely adore."

You watch then as Brittany leans down to sit on her calves, places both her hands around yours and looks you dead in the eye.

You swallow.

"I've recently been discharged from hospital to go on holiday," She says, "because I am struggling with an eating disorder and I tried to cut the damn thing out of my veins."

You swallow again and feel your heart speed up faster than it ever had before. Your lips crumble and your eyes twitch and you're waiting for Brittany to burst into laughter, even though that would be so ridiculously inappropriate.

You drag in the sharpest breath and purse your lips so they don't fall off your face. Her hands are tight on yours, so you make yours tighter. You don't want to break down again in front of her but _fuck._

_Fuck._

You have no idea what to say.

Brittany smiles gently, like she sees what's going on in your mind. (Maybe she does.)

She leans down a little and kisses your clasped hands, hovering there for some time. Your breath is shaky but before you can scare her, you lean down and press your lips to the top of her head. You stay there, inhaling the sweet scent of her blonde hair, basking in the fact that she's _fucking alive. _

Did you really want to know this about Brittany?

Of course you fucking did.

"Thank you for telling me, Britt." You whisper into her hair, inhaling once again.

She mumbles something into your hands you don't quite hear.

"Sorry, baby?"

She leans up, biting her lip. Her tongue sticks out to moisten them before she repeats, "I'm sorry."

You nod. "I'm sorry too."

"About what?" She asks, her brown knitting together.

"No," You reply, shaking your head. "I'm sorry for being difficult about this. For asking you things you don't really have to answer, things I have no right to demand to hear, you know? I was just being a dick."

"Please stop, Santana." She says plainly, placing her pointer finger to your lips. You kiss it. "If I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with you, you've got to know them at some point, hey?"

"Wait, what?" You blink, your heart stopping at her words. You feel like it's going to grow out your ribs like overgrown ivy. Did she mean to say that?

Brittany smiles and her eyes widen. "Oh wait!" She exclaims, standing up and pulling you with her. "I don't even know who you are, what am I even saying? Introduce yourself, pretty girl."

Your breath has gone and your heart is singing and if you could grasp even one fact about yourself, you'd be doing well. Brittany is still smiling at you though and if her hands were not holding yours, maybe you'd forget your name altogether or something.

"San?" She giggles, totally unaware of what she's just said.

You move your eyes rapidly, searching for anything to tell her. She giggles again.

"Oh," You whisper, holding your hand out. She takes it and then smiles delicately and thankfully at you. It makes your heart melt. "Hey,"

"Hey," Brittany replies, squeezing it.

"Well," You begin, remembering how this was your idea and you should probably make it good. "I'm Santana Marie Lopez, I'm twenty-one years old, I work in my dad's bakery and in a diner where I get to sing a lot and I love it."

You giggle because this whole situation has suddenly become something completely different.

"I recently graduated from college with a degree in the history of music," You tell her and you love it when her eyes pop open. "I write songs all the time and I send them to countless record labels but I never hear back from them. My favourite colour is red, Iced Breadsticks are the tastiest things I have ever eaten and I spend my life meeting Rachel Berry on the subway."

Brittany chuckles at this and mumbles how you bet you secretly enjoy those times. You wink back at her, as if she caught you out on your biggest secret.

"But shh, don't tell." You whisper, smirking. She seems to lose her breath.

"And," You finish, looking away shamefully, "I spent four years of my life ignoring my whole family because I was distraught that it broke in half for absolutely no reason and I couldn't do anything about it."

Brittany squints her eyes like she's finally understanding something and then she giggles. You're so confused but her lips are shaking and then her shoulders go and it's so infectious that you have no time to be pissed at her. You're laughing back before you can even stop yourself and when she pulls you in for a hug, you hug back even tighter, the feeling of her chest on yours making you feel okay once again.

The air around you thins out and suddenly, you're not so cold anymore. The crickets don't sound like their screaming; their song is more of a comfort to you and once again, you find yourself wanting to bottle a moment with Brittany, especially when she's wrapped so tightly around you.

Shaking and all.

She pulls back, shakes her head, apologizes and begins laughing again. She even snorts and you burst out an even bigger laugh, wiping at your eyes and sniffing to stop the earlier sadness seeping out your nose in an ugly fashion. Her hair has fallen out her messy ponytail so you reach forward and tuck it behind her ears, ceasing her laughter and making her just grin at you. You grin right back.

She apologizes again.

"It's just," She explains, leaning forward to cup your cheek. You lean into the warmth. "We're such serious people."

She laughs again and so do you.

"What's wrong with us?" She wonders, in between giggles.

You smile so widely. "I don't know," You tell her, finding her so beautiful in this moment. "But I am so in love with whatever it is."

She chuckles at that.

"You know," You walk towards her, reaching your arms around her waist and pulling her in. "My favourite part about you, Brittany Susan Pierce, is that you are an _avid_ duck lover."

Brittany laughs really loudly, her nose scrunching up excitedly.

"And my favourite part about _you _is that you have a thing for breadsticks."

"_Iced _breadsticks," You correct, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "They're amazing."

"I want to try one," Brittany surprises you by saying.

You grin. This girl has made you feel a thousand different emotions just in this one day and you know that this kind of person doesn't come around twice. You know that Brittany is your girl and your person and your soulmate and even though you felt so mad at her a moment ago, right now, you feel so entwined with her, that all your other feelings don't seem to matter.

"Can I take you back to New York with me?" You murmur, your eyes glazing over with love.

"You can take me _anywhere_," She replies, running her hands up your biceps. "As long as I'm with you."

The two of you smile at each other and once you're back in the jeep and driving slowly back to the resort, you turn to face Brittany and she turns to you.

"You know, I cannot stay mad at you for anything."

Brittany laughs, looks down at her lap and then leans across the dashboard to kiss your cheek.

"Good. Because I want to spend the night with you."

...

Brittany had managed to get you and her an ocean view room, one of the smaller rooms nearer the bottom of the hill. She'd spoken to one of the managers behind reception for about half an hour before grabbing your hand and whisking you behind the desk, ducking down.

You'd heard her parent's voices coldly asking the girls at reception if they'd seen their daughter. Brittany had her head low and her eyes squeezed shut and when Valerie walked out from the bamboo doors at the back, she'd simply informed Mr and Mrs Pierce that Brittany had not been down to the beach once that day.

When they'd stalked off, all you could hear swirling round and round in your head was Brittany's mom's disgusted tone when she'd bitten, "she's probably been with that mexican girl she calls her friend all day."

It wasn't even the worst you'd heard in your life, but it still stung. Especially coming from someone who was a huge part of someone you loved.

Valerie had ushered you along to a shuttle to take you to your room, scolding you that she wasn't happy about the situation but she'd keep quiet if it meant the two of you could escape the wrath of Mrs Pierce.

When you'd got to the room, after a weirdly silent shuttle ride, Brittany had laid on her side on the bed and patted the space next to her. And that's where you found yourself now, staring into her eyes and wondering what you were feeling. You knew Brittany didn't like her family and that even though there was no solid reason, you knew there must have been something different about them if open minded, lovable, adventurous Brittany didn't fit in with them.

Especially since she was so sad.

But you'd not expected them to be quite so, well, rude.

Was that the right word?

You weren't sure. You just hated that you were feeling so deflated.

Brittany shifts beside you and you know she realises you heard her mom. It makes you angry at yourself that you can't hide your feelings that well from her but it's just because it came from someone you really wanted to get on with and it's now sort of real that you probably won't.

"Santana," Brittany whispers cautiously, squinting a little bit at you. "You made me talk earlier, so please talk to me now?"

Your heart gives way a little and you release a long breath and reach your arm across her. She lifts one of her legs and places it over yours. You suddenly realise that this is what Brittany must have been meaning when she'd got so upset in that field.

You sigh. "Yeah, sorry, baby."

Brittany leans forward to kiss your nose. She goes to do it again but you catch her face before hand and kiss her lips instead. Your mouth is open but you close it around Brittany's and she muffles a moan between you.

You pull apart and apologize again. Brittany reprimands you.

Another silence cocoons the bed and the two of you bask in the noise of the crickets humming outside. You can just hear the faint sound of the waves as they gently roll into shore one by one and if you hold your breath, the sound of Brittany's fills your ears. There seems to be a magic in the way her chest rises and then falls and for a moment, you are captivated by the way her hipbone juts towards the ceiling and her hair runs like streams that would take you all the way to the other side of the world if you followed them. Her eyes glitter as the starlight outside sneaks through the half closed wooden windows and dances upon her face. And in this second, you are so glad you can touch her.

Bringing your arm from her back to the nape of her neck, you are reminded of a book you once read when you were in college. Your roommate had been studying Literature and had lent a copy of _Fear and Self Loathing in Las Vegas _after you'd told her you wanted to visit the city. You're still not sure if she had wanted to put you off or whether she thought you were an uneducated shit (probably both) but you'd read the book nonetheless. And the only part that ever stood out to you was when the author had written, _'but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world.' _

You had strived every moment after your mom died to feel alive and right now, you actually did. Staring at this beautiful girl who had never done one thing to hurt anybody intentionally and who looked like an angel may as well have just landed in this tiny two bed hotel room, surrounding you with a warmth you'd never experienced before, you felt fucking alive.

"Your mom," You begin, looking down into the small space between the two of you and back into her eyes. "Uh, she doesn't like...this?"

Brittany smiles. "My _family_ don't like this. God knows what will happen when they find out I'm in love with you."

"Wait," You frown, "You haven't told them?"

"San," She bites her lip. "I don't talk to my parents about anything, let alone being in love with a girl. I mean, you heard what she said."

You're worried now. You don't want to lose Brittany. You've heard the stories, some couples get kept apart or chucked out or denied any contact and you don't think you could cope with having all of Brittany and then none at all.

"But what will happen when they do know?" You hate how weak your voice sounds.

Brittany purses her lips and sighs. "I don't know."

Your anxiety gets even worse.

"But," She continues, leaning forward a little and kissing your nose, "they won't stop me from being with you because I'm an adult and it would be my decision."

"They could chuck you out, Britt."

"So what?" She laughs, pulling you closer. "I don't want to be there anyway."

"But where will you live?" You're really panicking now that she won't be safe and it's kind of clouding over your mind.

"Anywhere. As long as I know you're alive, I don't care." She grins in the darkness and the magic increases. "I will live on the streets of New York just so I can be near you. Okay? We don't have to worry about anything."

You giggle. "You wouldn't have to live on the streets. You'd look like one of those sad tramps with your dog and a blanket covered with knitted ducks or something."

Brittany laughs loudly then and it makes your head hurt less. "I'd be like a sad panda." She says, sobering a little.

"A sad panda," You repeat, glancing down at her lips and loving her so much. "What's the deal with your parents anyway?"

Brittany rolls her eyes. "Other than the fact they're upper class ignorant bigots who spend their lives commenting on others, they're just dicks. Really."

You smirk. "Baby, that's not a nice thing to say."

Brittany raises her eyebrows. "And was it a nice thing my mom said down at reception?"

You immediately stop smirking and chew your tongue. She had a point.

"My parents live in the past, Santana and all I've done is try to escape it." She lifts your chin up with her finger and leans forward to kiss you. It's long and slow and languid and it makes your heart pound against your ribs. When you pull apart, she cups your cheek and whispers right near your lips, "But you, you are so present that I feel drunk all of the time when I'm with you."

You stick your tongue out and lick her top lip. "What about your future?" You ask, half smiling. "Have any plans?"

She leans up then, hovers over you and lets her hair tickle the tips of your cheekbones. "Maybe something with this chick I met on holiday who made me gay, I don't know."

"Baby," You giggle, when she leans down and bites your neck lightly, "I didn't make you gay, I'm just hot."

"Yes," She agrees, flattening her tongue against your neck and dragging it all the way up to your ear, until she kisses your cheek. Her hand suddenly leaves the pillow beside your head and reaches under the sweater and over your bikini bottoms...

...right between your legs.

_Fuck._

"Yes, you are."

"Britt," You moan, arching your back. "Take this off."

The sweater comes off and then she unties your bikini top and before you even get a chance to remove hers, she's got her lips around your nipple piercing, sucking and caressing it with her tongue, making you marvel in the way she's being so confident.

The crickets are loud and a dog barks in the distance but she's moving into you like she's been doing it for a thousand years. Her kisses are wet and long and as she drops tiny kisses across your chest, then your neck and up to your jawline, you've lifted her shirt right to her neck.

She smirks at your impatience and leans up to take it off. But it's suddenly like she remembers what's underneath and a fear crosses her eyes without you being able to stop it. And just as you're about to lean up and hold her close to you, she rips off her shirt like it's diseased and sits atop you, waiting for you to comment.

Her ribs stick out in all the wrong places, like her skeleton is trying to escape her skin. Where a once lean dancers abdominals were now sits a tummy that pushes back into itself. She has several moles forming a constellation at the bottom of her belly button and just like that, they are all you notice.

So you sit up and you kiss her. You kiss her right on the mouth and you wrap your arms right around her body. Her breasts are tiny, yet they push against yours with a hunger you're learning to feel intoxicated by.

It's quiet in the air immediately around you; the tension is strong, filling your senses scents you were only just discovering. Your hands clasp around her neck and your kisses are sloppy - the kind that nearly make you want to inhale a person.

"Lie down," You demand, following Brittany as she does so. You're so close, you're suffocating the air between you.

Both your breathing is getting heavy and it's making you lightheaded. You kiss her again and she responds by pressing her tongue so far in your mouth, you can almost feel yourself dripping down your thighs and in between your legs.

Your hips start canting into Brittany's center, hard, fast, desperate.

She wails.

Her hands reach behind your ass and her fingers hook the seam of your bikini bottoms. She manages to move them slightly but you need to break apart to get them fully off. When your lips are back on hers, you slide down her own underwear, groaning at how flexible she is as she curls her legs in and flicks them off without taking her lips away from yours.

And then she's pushing up into you and it's so hot, you think you're going to pass out. She feels just as desperate as you do and as her skin gets hotter, so does the air around you and it smells incredible.

You've never wanted to taste someone as much as you want to taste Brittany right now.

You plant your tongue just under her chin and drag it so slowly down between her breasts, her navel and above where you want to go. She's quivering and so before you kiss her there, you lean back up to her face and tell her to open her eyes.

"I'm gonna kiss you down there, okay? But if at any moment you want me to stop, tell me to stop and I promise you I will."

She bites her lip and once again her hips push up into you.

"Don't even think about stopping," Comes her growling reply.

You don't have to be asked twice.

Her scent is heady and intoxicating. If you kiss her at the top, she'll grab your hair and push you further into her. If you press your tongue deep into her, she'll drop her jaw open and she'll gasp out a breath like you've just plunged your hand into her lungs and grabbed it from her.

Her arms are above her head right now and your tongue is flat against her opening. You lick upwards to the top and the moment you hear her gasp, you encase her whole centre, wetting your lips warmly around her like you're setting her on fire.

"Babe," She breathes out, "keep going, fuck,"

You make your tongue solid and flick it against her fast, holding down her hips with both your hands. Her movements get sharper and you feel her swelling against your mouth. You dip right back into her one last time and then you can feel her pulse against your tongue and the tangy sweetness that escapes her fills your senses with love.

"Ahh, Santana,"

Her back is arched so much, for a moment you think it might snap but the way her jaw is tight in surprise and her eyes are closed in pleasure, you know she could never break.

Not if you're touching her.

"Ahh," She continues to moan, her hips residing their bucking and her eyes reopening.

You come to lay down right beside her, half on her and half on the bed. She kisses you and looks at you with half hooded eyes. She moves to climb on top of you but you hold her back.

"Not now," You say, causing her to frown. "I just want to hold you. Please?"

She hesitantly lies back down, chewing her lip and knotting her brow together. You reach up and smooth it out with your thumb. You smile at her. She's perfect. You didn't get to hold her last time and you'll be damned if you don't get to this time.

You want to hold her after every time.

She nestles into your chest like she needs your warmth and even though you're both sticky and the air outside is hot and humid, somehow, you can still feel your heart warm up inside you. She kisses your collarbone and just before you think she's fallen asleep, you feel her hand creep within your legs and press delicately onto your centre.

"Britt?" You murmur against her hair, "What did I just say?"

"Shh," She whispers back, cupping you there and making you feel breathless again. She doesn't move her hand for a while so you think it's innocent but then her fingers start working in small circles and even if you wanted to, you couldn't stop yourself pressing into her.

You can feel her smirk against your chest.

She's lying there like she's trying to sleep, peaceful, slow and steady. But her fingers are moving faster and her tongue is licking your collarbone and then a moan escapes your lips and she's kissing your neck instead.

"Baby," You moan again, reaching down and pressing your hand atop her moving wrist. "Harder."

She's sucking really hard on your neck and you know tomorrow there's going to be a mark. But you don't care, the tension is building, you feel amazing and it's all because of Brittany.

Brittany and her fingers.

"Uhhh, baby," You moan, not quite believing the simple effect she's having on you.

She's going so hard that you're losing your breath and when you eventually come undone, her kisses on your neck turn softer and her hand cups your centre once again.

"You bitch," You gasp in between breaths, "I wanted to hold you."

Brittany giggles, pressing her lips up to yours. "Hold me now then."

You smile and she smiles and the only thing between you are the sheets.

"I love you." You tell her, brushing away her hair off her face.

"I love you too." She replies, almost glowing. "Can I take _you _on an adventure tomorrow?"

You grin. "Of course, where do you wanna go?"

"Away from here."

You sober a little. "Let's hide up here for the whole morning and we'll go in the afternoon, yeah?"

She nods. "I know this all seems so serious right now, like with us and my parents and how this has happened so quickly. But I do believe that it was always going to be this way for us. I think that had I met you back in Ohio, I would have fallen in love with you this quickly. Or had we met in New York, the same would have happened there, you know?"

"Yeah," You whisper, kissing her forehead. "I can't wait to spend another day with you tomorrow you avid duck lover."

And then Brittany laughs and you think you might never love a person as much as you love Brittany in this moment.


End file.
